Reap the Whirlwind
by Adara-chan67
Summary: Basically, I'm ripping off one of my own stories. It's a crossover with Supernatural and contians Limp!Cal, Protective!Niko, and general angst. For additional details, inquire within. Rated for language and stuff.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I don't own….anything that belongs to someone else. I think that's the kind of thing that the law says—you know, possession being nine-tenths and all. Yeah. You get it._

_Characters: Cal and Niko Leandros, Sam and Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker_

_Setting: After "Madhouse" in the _Cal Leandros_ series, before "Hunted" in _Supernatural's_ season two_

_Warnings: Missing!Limp!!Cal, Protective!Niko, Limp!Sam, Protective!Dean, general angst, shameless self-robbery, rusty muses, slightly lame beginning, and probably slow updates._

_Summary/Author's Note: Remember my first-ever Leandros fic, _The Devil's Trill? _Yeah, I'm basically ripping that one off so that I can do an AU of my Leandros/Winchester Melding of the Awesome. Also, I just miss Gordon's nice, straightforward lunacy, because at least we _knew_ he was the bad guy. None of this "Hey, I'm the _good_ guy who wants to end the world, so make sure you don't mix me up with the _bad_ one who…also wants to end the world." That, compounded with deep denial about what went on in the last two episodes—oh, okay, in the last two seasons—led to this, which has an idea to it similar to _The Devil's Trill,_ only I packed in more man-pain and limpage and set it all in a longer timeline. _

* * *

Prologue

The hunter waited patiently for his quarry to come out of its hole. He had been waiting for a long time, but he didn't mind. He had done some long waiting in his time. He remembered once staking out a pit for three days straight, living on Slim Jims and stale cookie crisps and strong coffee, never letting the place out of his sight, and that was for a creature much less than this one.

Still, he was rather relieved that this wait wouldn't last longer than tonight—he got tired of pissing on the sidewalk sometimes, and besides, that road could sometimes lead to awkwardness if traveled too often in a short span of time.

Just as he was getting a small chuckle out of this, the wind scattered leaves across concrete, and the hunter immediately shifted his mind and body back to full alertness. Overhead, dark clouds slid over to cover the moon, and the under smiled at the small ways in which the world aided him.

Night was really the best time for hunting, and the darker the better. No matter than in true darkness, with not even a candle or a flashlight, it was almost impossible to get a shot off—the hunter was good enough to hit his mark at any time. No matter that with so few people out and about late at night, one man out alone was obvious and suspicious—he could hide easily if need be. Never mind, either, that so few of God's creatures stirred at night.

What he hunted wasn't one of God's creatures, anyway.

Just as he thought this, his prey emerged into the night. As always, the hunter felt a brief stab of disappointment that the end of such a long wait could be so anticlimactic. But of course, that didn't mean he could let the thing escape, not for something as trivial as the chase that would ensue.

So, with a brief sigh for what fun he _could _have had if he were less professional, Gordon Walker lifted his gun, aimed out the open window, and pulled the trigger.

The thing dropped instantly, like a stone.

If stones had been less human.

**TBC**

* * *

_AN: Okay, so here's the thing: for whoever's actually read the prologue of _Forever May You Run_, I did _not_ quit. Swear. I just haven't been able to write _anything_ lately, and when I finally did manage to pick up a pen again this was the only thing my mind wanted to try. So if you're actually riveted by that idea I _will _be picking it up again, because I never abandon a story. It just may take some time. Until then, you get this!_

_The second thing: I will be out of town for almost all of June. There is a brief week in mid-June during which I am actually in St. Louis, but in that time I'll probably only be seeing my house as I pass by it on my way somewhere else. The good news is that because of that, I will probably be able to post multiple chapters of this at once. The bad news is that they probably won't come until the end of June/beginning of July. If it sucks that I put up a teaser like this—well, feel free to tell me it sucks. I'll try to post chapter one by the time I leave next Friday—I'll try _really hard_—but don't hold me to that…_

_And the third thing: I know after dropping off the grid for almost two months I don't deserve it, but could you guys review anyway? I promise I'd be really grateful!!! (Even if I might not be able to reply until the end of June—see above…) _


	2. Niko

Chapter 1

"_Niko, seriously, I can go by myself. It's only a couple of miles."_

_Maybe Cal hadn't meant to inject quite so much sheer _teenager_ into his tone, but it had the same effect as if he'd been trying his damnedest to cause trouble._

_Niko Leandros raised his eyebrows slightly, intently studying his own fingernails as he replied to his brother's assertion. "You know I'm not going to let you go even that far on your own."_

_Maybe it was the raised brows; maybe it was the light tone in which the words were spoken. Either way, Cal seemed to realize that he was pressing his luck, because he immediately softened his tone._

"_Look, Nik, you and I both know that this isn't about the length of the trip," he said quietly. "If I were going next door we'd be having this same argument."_

"_You're right, we would," Niko agreed. "I'm pretty sure the man next door is a serial killer."_

"_Ha, ha. Look, let's just talk about what we're really talking about, okay? You're afraid that the Grendels will take me back to that place if I leave here without you."_

_It was the truth, stated so baldly that it took Niko aback, silencing him for almost two seconds._

"_They took you from your room last time," he said quietly. "They took you while I was _right there_—it will be twice as easy to get to you if you're completely alone."_

"_I know. And I'm scared of that, too," Cal admitted. "But it won't happen like that this time, Niko, and that's why I have to go. So that we can both start getting over this." He paused as if to give his brother time to reply, but when no answer was forthcoming he went on. "Okay, what if I promise to run all the way there and back? I'd make it in half the time _and_ be doing that whole exercise thing you obsess over all the time. And then we'd have…taken a step. Not a big one, considering that the store is two miles away, but still."_

_Niko was quiet for a long time, but then he looked up and said, "Fifteen minutes. If you're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm coming after you."_

_And so for the first time in months, Cal left home alone, and nothing terrible happened._

_Then._

XXX

Niko swung his katana and felt it connect with a wet squelching sound before it sank into bone and stuck there. He wrenched it out and the creature dropped. Without checking to see whether it was dead, he stepped over it and up to the door it had been guarding, the hilt of his unsheathed, bloodstained sword still clutched in his hand. Without hesitating, he pushed open the door and stepped into the room beyond.

The room was dark, but he'd expected that, and so his only reaction was to raise his sword a little and listen carefully while his eyes adjusted, or until something happened.

It wasn't long before something did.

"Well, bravo."

The voice was human, cool, and coming from somewhere on the left. Niko swung in that direction, raised his sword higher, and said calmly, "Bravo for finding you, or bravo for getting past your guard?"

"Why, both. Of course, it's rather unfortunate that you had to _kill_ her, but if you hadn't you wouldn't have gotten here in the first place, I suppose."

"Besides, you'll have an adequate replacement for her," Niko filled in when the voice fell silent.

"Well, yes, there is that. Now, would you like me to turn on a light or would you prefer to keep talking to the wall?"

"I'm not talking to the wall," Niko replied instantly. "I know very well that I'm looking straight at you—if not into your eyes, at least into your face—so no games, please. However, if you would prefer a light it won't bother me. Whatever makes you more comfortable."

There was a moment of surprised silence and then the vampire Gabriel said, "Well, well, you _are_ unusual, aren't you? Promise did say you were when she contacted me. I assume she's the one who warned you about my girl out there?"

"She is. Did she tell you what I want from you?"

Gabriel paused for a moment, then said slowly, "Yes, she mentioned that you might need some help, and asked me to do what I could."

"And?" Niko asked tightly.

"And…I have nothing for you."

"Nothing?" Niko asked, so disappointed that some of it actually showed. "No information at all? Not even a friend of a friend who might be able to help?"

"I'm sorry," the vampire said, sounding like he even half meant it.

But Niko didn't answer. He was already halfway out the door.

XXX

_Cal went missing for the first time ever when he was three years old._

_Niko had only been nine at the time, but he'd already learned to watch his little brother with the hawk-eyes of the most watchful parent. Had already figured out that if he didn't take care of his little brother, protect him from all the big, bad things in the world, no one would._

_But he was still an eight-year-old boy, and there are some things eight-year-old boys can't ignore—like the local park's ice-cream booth._

_He only looked away for thirty seconds—at most—to watch the vendor pile chocolate sauce on top of chocolate ice cream for a blond teenage girl who was staring at the cone with delight._

_Thirty seconds at most, and when he turned back there was no sign of Cal anywhere._

_As it turned out, of course, Cal had not been taken. He had simply done what so many children do at some point—he had followed his playmates out of sight without telling his guardian. And if Niko had been a little older, a little wiser, he probably would have figured that out. He probably would have taken a step back and looked at the facts with an eye that would later become incredibly perceptive and concluded that he shouldn't jump to conclusions._

_He almost certainly would not have run through the park screaming Cal's name so loudly that nearby mothers began to panic _for_ him. He definitely would not have embarrassed both himself and his brother when he found Cal by shaking him until his teeth rattled and then hugging him until he couldn't breathe. His voice would not have gone hoarse from shouting and Cal probably would not have been scared enough to promise never to do anything of the sort again, and to keep that promise._

_But in the end, that was a harmless incident, quickly risen and easily resolved._

_If only everything in their lives could end so simply._

XXX

Werewolves were not the easiest creatures in the world to talk to. For one thing, most of them couldn't speak coherent English, being more wolf than anything else. Then there was the fact that most of them viewed humans as having very little point at all. And if that wasn't enough, all but the most restrained of them tended to just kill you if they felt you were getting too long-winded or irritating.

All of these things combined made most werewolves impossible to interrogate.

But not all of them.

"Smell good. Like food."

The wolf eyed Niko appreciatively as he spoke, and Niko returned the cool gaze with one of his own.

"Well, heaven knows it's disgusting to play with your food, so you should probably get on with it," he said calmly. When the wolf simply stared, Niko allowed himself a slight smile. "You see, I know you won't do it—kill me, I mean."

"Why?"

"Because Delilah's told you about me," Niko said simply. "And you know I could take you. So why don't you just tell me if you've heard anything strange or unusual that could help me, all right?"

The wolf watched him for a while, and then slowly shook his head back and forth. "Nothing strange," he said. "Everything normal. Boring. Less food than usual. Nothing else."

"Less food? What do you mean, less food? Don't werewolves eat…"

"Lot of things. Mostly not humans. Eat too many humans and make a mess. Eat animals and others instead. But lately, less others. Eat more animals instead."

The wheels were already turning in Niko's head. They had not helped him to reach a conclusion of how useful this information was to him, but he filed it away anyways.

After all, one could never have too much information filed away.

XXX

"_Are you cold, Cal?"_

_Cal burrowed deeper into the folds of Niko's coat and didn't answer—not that Niko had expected him to. Cal hadn't said a word since the beat-up old car had sped—or rather, _tried_ to speed—away from the wreckage of their own trailer, and Niko was finding it harder and harder to tamp down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him._

"_Do you want me to turn the heater on?"_

_Cal still didn't answer, and Niko felt the fear spike yet again. He should have been more prepared for something like this. Not _exactly_ like this, maybe, but he should have been prepared for the Grendels to finally get to his brother. It had to happen eventually, and how had he neglected to make a plan to take care of Cal when it did? How was it possible that he, who prided himself on being careful and forward thinking, be so clueless now?_

"_I'm so sorry, kiddo."_

_Niko hadn't meant to say it—it just slipped out, which only proved how out of his control this situation was. But maybe it had been the right thing to say, because for the first time Cal didn't shrink away at the sound of anything other than the spluttering engine. Instead, he straightened up a little—though he still kept the jacket tight around him—and stared at Niko with puzzled eyes._

"_I…I let them take you," Niko said in reply to the unasked question._

_The puzzlement faded abruptly, replaced, not with the blank exhaustion that had been dominating his eyes all night, but by irritation mixed with understanding. Then he was leaning forward and leaning his head against Niko's shoulder, one of his hands emerging to fist itself in Niko's shirt, his eyes closing with a quiet sigh._

_The show of trust made the iron band around Niko's chest loosen slightly, and for the first time he began to entertain the ides that in the end, things would turn out okay._

_Maybe._

XXX

Niko shook off the memory with a sigh as he walked toward the run-down building that was the location of tonight's foray. The flashbacks hit him at the oddest, most random times, and they crippled him every time, something he could ill-afford with the company he was keeping these days.

Tonight he was seeing another vampire that Promise had set him up with, and while Promise's acquaintances didn't usually try to kill him—unlike, say, Robin's—he still had to keep his wits about him.

His tension mounted as he approached the building, not because he worried about what he might have to fight, but because….well, what if tonight was The Night? What if this time, he got actual, solid information? What if this was the night he'd been hoping for?

The tension did not fade as he pushed open the door. The room beyond was dim, but not entirely dark. He stepped cautiously inside…and several things happened at once.

First, the door slammed shut behind him with an echoing bang. Then the barrel of a gun swung into his point of view, another gun pressed against the back of his neck, and a quiet voice growled, "Drop the knife and don't move."

**TBC**


	3. Cal

_Author's Note: Would you believe me if I told you that I actually finished this chapter a week ago? No? Well, that's okay, because it's not the truth anyway. The truth is that on top of my trips to Branson and Anaheim taking up all of June, this was also a hard chapter to write. I finally got it done, though, so here it is and I'll start working on the next one ASAP!_

* * *

Chapter 2

"_Do you remember the first week I was away at college?"_

_Cal felt a ghost of…something…pass over his face. "How could I forget?"_

_Niko smiled sadly. "Pretty crappy time, huh?"_

_They were lying in Cal's bed, not touching, but keeping an inch or so of space between them, and Niko had brought up this topic after a long silence. Cal had begun to talk a little earlier that day and Niko was clearly eager to keep him going._

"_I remember that first night, I kept telling myself you were in the next room. Pretending. Trying to convince myself you were still close enough for me to protect."_

_He'd never told Cal anything like that, and Cal knew that his admitting it now was nothing more or less than an attempt to distract him. He appreciated that deeply, and hid it with a disgruntled, "I didn't _need_ protecting."_

_Niko scoffed. "Please. You were with Sophia."_

"…_Well, okay, maybe I needed a _little_ protection," Cal conceded. "From the booze smell, if nothing else."_

"_If nothing else," Niko agreed absently, but Cal could see he had stuff on his mind that had nothing to do with booze or Sophia._

_And suddenly they were right there, at the topic they'd been skirting as if it were explosive. In order to avoid it, he murmured, "I pretended you were still living there, too, ya know. Or…I dunno, maybe I just wished you were. Just so I'd have someone to talk to, obviously."_

"_Of course."_

"_And…I dunno, I guess it made me feel safe," Cal admitted, not even sure why he was saying it. "Knowing _someone_ was there."_

_Niko went still for a moment, and then said, almost as if against his will, "I wasn't there when I should have been."_

"_Niko, come on. It was _college_, for God's sake. You were freaking _made_ for higher education—you had to go. And it's not like Sophia actually _hurt_ me. Quit guilt-tripping over it."_

_Niko didn't say anything, but he did close the space between them so that Cal's right arm was pressed against his left. Cal leaned against him and let the silence go._

_By the time he fell asleep, he'd almost managed to convince himself that they really had been talking about the year Niko had spent away at college._

XXX

Cal felt like he was living very kidnapping cliché known to man. For one thing, his hands were actually tied behind his back. With actual rope. For another, he was blindfolded. And also, he had no idea what the hell was going on.

Oh, and he was _high._

Really. Way past seeing pink elephants. It was more like seeing giant polka-dotted flamingoes or a good script of _From Justin to Kelly._

So, yeah. _High._

He had no idea where he was or how long he'd been there, of course. If he had, he could no longer claim the title of most clichéd captive. He didn't know if he was hurt, or when he'd last eaten, or if he was scared or if he _should_ be scared. What he did know was that things kept going black around him, as if he were one of those blond ditzes in made-for-TV-movies whose friends love her enough to finally see what's going on with her and send her to rehab, where she goes through treatment and no withdrawal pains whatsoever and emerges back onto the streets all Zen and La-La-La and never has another drink no matter how stressed she gets.

Like that. Only before rehab and entirely devoid of Zen.

But right now, things seemed to be clearing up slightly. Not enough for him to speak or move, but maybe enough to give him hope that someday he _would_ speak or move again.

Maybe.

But of course, just as he was beginning to be able to make out some details of wherever he was, there was a (weird) sharp jab into his arm, and the blackness swirled again, leaving him enough time for one disgruntled thought.

_I hate my life._

XXX

_Cal was walking through a place he didn't recognize. He was alone, and he was scared, and he wanted his brother._

_He was _pretty_ sure he was in the woods somewhere, because there were trees all around him, and it was very dark. He was also barefoot and in his pajamas. Overhead an owl hooted, and he jumped, startled. Then the owl swooped down over him, and he gasped and flattened himself against a tree._

_And then, suddenly, with no warning, the tree was gone, and he was standing unsupported on a very narrow path that twisted and turned out of sight. The little sliver of moon that had been overhead was gone now and it was even darker than before._

_He stood there, shaking, until a twig snapped behind him. He whipped around, terrified, to find…nothing there at all. Then there was a rustle, again at his back. And again, when he turned, there was no one there._

_The next sound came from above—only now, instead of a snap or a rustle, there was a hissing, sibilant voice._

"_Little boy…"_

_Cal looked up, and this time he saw something—a pair of red eyes, staring down at him._

"_Pretty little boy…"_

_And suddenly, Cal could see more—could see the shape of the pale white thing crouched in the tree above, its white teeth as it sneered, all the other pale white things ringed around him in the trees waiting to devour him…_

"_Cal…Cal, wake up!"_

_And suddenly there was a hand gripping his shoulder, shaking him, and all the trees and dark and monsters were gone and he was back with his brother._

_Niko stared down at him, his eyes dark with worry, his hand still firm on Cal's shoulder._

"_Cal?" he whispered. "What happened? You were screaming…"_

_Cal stared up at him for a while, then wordlessly tugged on his arm until he slid into the narrow bed. Then, with a quiet sigh, he curled up and—almost instantly, despite the images still swirling around in his head—fell asleep._

XXX

Cal spent a lot of time having weird dreams—usually involving giant human-shaped marshmallows chasing him around and poking his arm with toasting forks, but sometimes also featuring and extra-large supreme pizza dancing in front of him saying, "How much do you want me?" in singsong.

He also continued the pattern of swimming _almost_ to something approaching clarity, then feeling that weird stab and sinking into darkness again. It was getting frustrating.

And where was Niko? He should have been there by now—he _would_ have been if he could, and the fact that he clearly couldn't was…well, it was scary, to say the least.

Those were the things that occurred to him during the brief moments that he could think at all. Sometimes it also occurred to him to try to pull loose of the ropes, but _that_ certainly never worked, and eventually he gave up.

He also spent plenty of time berating himself for allowing this to happen in the first place, until finally, when he spun back down into the blackness again, he found himself reliving the whole thing.

The most irritating part was that he'd never seen it coming. Niko had been checking out a possible new job for them, so he was already gone, and Cal had just stepped out the door to their apartment building on his way to work. Their street being one of the more run-down in the city, it was deserted, and Cal had been unconsciously hurrying—as he sometimes tended to do when alone—to get to a busier spot.

He never made it.

In fact, he'd barely walked half a block when he heard a quiet shuffle behind him. He had his gun out in an instant and was turning to point it—but all his turning had done was give a perfect target for whatever blunt object it was that hurtled through the air and slammed into the side of his head.

And now here he was, in a truly crappy situation, and all he could think about was his brother and how disappointed Niko would be if he knew how easy it had been to get him here.

How screwed up as that?

XXX

_When Cal was ten, he had gone to the park with Sophia. Later he couldn't even remember why he hadn't gone with Niko, but he hadn't, and therefore any promises he might have made to Niko about wandering off were null and void._

_In the end, though, it was his mother who wandered off, and even at eight Cal knew she'd probably wandered in the direction of the nearest booze. Left to his own devices, Cal decided he wanted to try the monkey bars._

_There were a couple of kids on the playground that day, but none of them were on the monkey bars, so Cal climbed the ladder, grabbed the bars, and pushed off with his feet._

_He made it halfway before he fell, and since he could never do anything halfway, he broke his arm in the fall. It hurt, obviously—bad—and Cal wanted nothing more than to start wailing right then and there._

_He didn't, though._

_Instead, he stumbled to his feet, took a look around for his mother, and then began to walk home._

_It was Niko ho took him to the emergency room, and it was Niko who convinced very single doctor and nurse that he was eighteen and Cal's legal guardian. It was Niko who stayed right next to him and the entire time his arm was being encased in plaster and Niko who gave the doctor Sophia's credit card information from perfect memory._

_It was also Niko who swore up and down that Sophia would never take Cal anywhere again, who promised that only his brother would take him places from now on._

_As always, it was Niko who protected him that day and every day after._

XXX

Eventually Cal got almost all the way to total clarity without spinning back into the blackness, and he knew that it was on purpose the moment footsteps came stumping toward him, heavy and slow and solid and _not Niko._ That was enough to freak him out on its own, but the fact that he was drugged within an inch of his life and tied tightly enough to cut off his circulation made things so much worse.

The footsteps stopped and Cal squinted, trying to bring whatever it was into focus.

He was still trying to blink the haze from the corners of his eyes when a quiet, cool voice said, "Hello, Caliban."

**TBC**


	4. Winchesters

Chapter 3

Niko was impressed in spite of himself. It had been years since anyone had so easily disarmed him—it had gone off without a hitch for them. He almost felt ashamed of himself, but not quite, because it was a simple fact that anyone, or even any two people, who could get the drop on him at all had to be very, very good.

He stared into the barrel of the gun in his face, his thoughts racing, until the gun at the back of his neck pressed harder and the same voice repeated, "Drop it."

Niko reached a decision the moment the command came, and he followed it to the letter. He did drop his sword—and then he spun around, grabbed the gun at his neck while reaching for a smaller dagger in his coat with his other hand, and in a couple of seconds had the gun across the room and one of his assailants pressed back against him with a knife to his throat.

The entire room went still, except for the harsh breathing of the man he was holding hostage. For his part, Niko was just hoping that the other man cared enough about this one not to just shoot him to get to Niko.

He took one look and realized that would not be the case here.

Niko couldn't see his hostage's face—the man was just too tall—but he could see the other man. That one was shorter, with close-cropped brown hair, hazel eyes, and a hard, furious expression. He didn't lower his gun, but his finger loosened on the trigger as he murmured, "Sam…"

There was something more than anger in his voice—some underlying thing that made Niko stop and reconsider this whole matter.

He thought about it for a moment, then said, "All right, how about this—I think you should drop your gun, and I'll drop my sword, and then I'll let your friend here go and we'll talk about this calmly and rationally." _And very, very quickly._ When the man only glared at him, Niko met his eyes and said, "Please. I have some urgent business to take care of, and I really don't want to hurt anyone to take care of it."

The man hesitated, but then lowered his weapon. Niko immediately followed suit and allowed the tall one to stumble away from him. The shorter, angry one steadied him with a hand on his shoulder while Niko leaned over, picked up the gun, and tossed it to its owner, who caught it with a look of surprise.

"There," Niko said. "Now we're all fairly armed. Would you like to tell me who you are?"

"Dude," the shorter one said. "You just attacked my brother, and now you think we're just going to stand here and _chat?"_

Niko looked from one of them to the other, then said sincerely, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were brothers. If I had I'd have tried to figure out another way to do this."

Both of them seemed taken aback, and the tall one asked, "Who _are_ you?"

"I believe I asked you first," Niko said, inserting a small amount of steel into his voice.

"We'll tell you ours if you tell us yours," the shorter one said with a wide (if entirely fake) grin, and the action was so reminiscent of Cal that Niko actually froze.

The tall one was staring at him, and then he sighed and said, "I'm Sam Winchester—this is my brother Dean."

The shorter one—Dean—choked a little and said, "Sam!"

"What?"

"You…you just...and he…_you gave him our last name!'_

"And now he's going to give us his," Sam said reasonably, before turning and leveling his gaze at Niko. "That _was_ the deal, right?"

"It was," Niko said. "I'm Niko Leandros."

"Okay…okay, great, progress," Dean said, still looking angrier than made Niko really comfortable. "Next question—what the hell are you doing here? With two swords, no less?"

"Actually, I have seven, and I'm glad to see we've moved on to their _proper_ names."

"Just answer the question."

"I'm meeting with a vampire named Charlotte," Niko said simply.

Dean looked at Sam with raised eyebrows and asked, "Can I shoot him _now?"_

"No," Sam replied shortly.

"Give me one good reason."

"I could give you several. Namely, he'd probably kill you before you could lift the gun. But you also can't kill him just because he associates with vampires."

"Sam, he could _be_ one."

"And if he tries to eat one of us, _then_ we can kill him."

"You're welcome to try right now, id you like," Niko interjected politely. "I could use the fight."

"Uh…okay, but in lieu of that, why don't you just tell us why you're meeting with this vampire?" Sam asked. His tone was perfectly civil, but by then Niko had had enough.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that. I'm late enough as it is."

And with that, Niko headed for the stairs that would lead to the building's lower levels.

He elected not to take the time to stop Dean and Sam from going with him.

It was probably a good idea to keep them close, anyway.

XXX

"I always knew my cousin had good taste in men, but even _I'm _surprised this time." It wasn't the oddest greeting Niko had ever had, but it was up there. He managed to take it in stride, though, along with the almost predatory way Charlotte was looking at him.

Behind him, he could almost _hear_ Dean and Sam's jaws dropping as they examined the opulence of the bottom floor, so different from the levels above. Charlotte was clearly like Promise in her desire to live well, and her home reflected that desire. The place was beautiful—if quite dim—and even fairly warm.

Niko ignored all this, though, and focused on the slight woman sitting in one of the enormous stuffed armchairs. She was very pretty—but she still had nothing on Promise, and Niko was able to ignore the naked suggestion in her voice.

"I'm sure you know what I'm doing here," he said coolly.

"Promise told me your story, yes, but we don't have to skip _directly_ to all that, do we? After all, I find that a little…group activity…beforehand can help make these kinds of things go much more smoothly. Your friends can join in, too, if they like."

"They're not my friends, and they wouldn't like. In fact, they could well be here to kill you. I haven't verified it, but I have a feeling that's why they came. They're not going to, though. Now can we please get on with this? Do you have anything for me or not?"

Charlotte pouted. "Promise lied to me. She said you were _fun_."

"Yes, well, life is just full of these little disappointments, isn't it? Now, information—please."

Charlotte sighed. "Fine, fine, let's get down to _business,_ then."

XXX

"She was a prostitute before she turned," Niko said apologetically as he and his new acquaintances left the building. "I guess some of that stuck—things to sometimes, you know. After." He spoke absently, only half-aware of the way the two other man were looking at him and that he was making them jog to catch up with him.

"Mr…uh…Leandros…Niko…whatever…hey, can you _stop_ for a minute?"

"I have to get back to my apartment," Niko replied, although he did slow down a little.

"Man, you are…the _weirdest _guy I've never met in my life," Dean huffed. "Aren't you even wondering who we are? Because I'm sure as _hell_ wondering about _you."_

"What are you wondering?" Niko asked, sighing inwardly as he resigned himself to having this conversation.

"Well, so many things," Dean said. "For one thing, how do you even know about vampires? How are you not curious that _we_ know about vampires? What was all that about information and that..."

"Charlotte," Dean supplied.

"_Charlotte_ not having any for you. Information about _what?_ And how did you learn to move like you do? It's not human, but you don't seem like you're anything else. You attacked my brother but then let him go for no apparent reason. You didn't seem too fond of that vampire in there, but you wouldn't let us kill her and you don't seem to care that she just tried to get you in _bed…"_

"That's because having a vampire in my bed is not unusual for me," Niko said flatly. He was beginning to get irritated in spite of himself, and his next words came around an exasperated sigh. "Look, how I came to know about vampires and the like is much too long a story to go into right now and wouldn't understand half of it anyway. I learned to move that way and fight that way from several senseis at several dojos, I'm not curious about you because I simply don't have time to be, and as for why I let your brother go without hurting him, well, I'd think it would be enough that I _did_. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get home now and try to figure out my next step."

He was walking away—reflecting on the fact that he seemed to be channeling his brother tonight, for some reason—when Sam spoke up. "You know, me and Dean—we can help you find whoever you're looking for."

Niko stopped in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

"Well, we're pretty good at that," Sam continued. "We do this kind of thing all the time. We really could give you a hand."

Niko stared at him for a moment, then said, "I guess you'd better come with me."

XXX

"We'll tell you ours if you tell us yours."

Those were the first words out of Dean's mouth once they were situated in Dean's car—one that probably would have sent Goodfellow into transports of delight—and they almost made Niko smile.

"Why do you think we're suddenly going to exchange stories?"

"Well, if we're going to help you find whoever you're looking for, you're gonna have to give us some facts to work with."

"Yes, but I can't give you details until I make sure you're not dangerous to me. In other words, I appreciate your offer, but if we're telling each other about ourselves, you two are going first."

Dean snorted and started to speak, but Sam spoke smoothly over him. "Fair enough, but you're probably not going to be surprised by anything we say. You probably know all about people like us."

"People like…?"

"Hunters," Sam filled in. "That's what we do. Dean and I. We're hunters."

"I'm sorry—hunters of…what, exactly?" Niko asked.

Sam turned around to look at him, eyebrows raised. "You mean you're not…? Huh…well. This may be harder to explain than I thought, then…"

XXX

Niko shouldn't have been surprised—and he wasn't, really. He had been so much in his life that the fact that people actually made careers about fighting evil—and committing fraud—really didn't seem all that unusual.

No, that wasn't what surprised him. What surprised him was how willing these two were to _help_ him.

Well, Sam, anyway. He still wasn't sure about Dean.

But having even one stranger be so completely willing to help him, no strings attached, was a foreign concept, and Niko wasn't entirely sure he trusted it at first.

By the time Sam finished giving him the highlights of their lives, he still didn't _entirely_ trust these two, but he did believe that they had their reasons to help him keep his family together, and he felt compelled to tell them everything.

He didn't, though.

In fact, in comparison to Sam, he hardly divulged anything at all. He explained about his own mother, and gave them a capped version of the Auphe and their obsession with Cal, but he didn't tell them about the Auphe being family relations. He had a feeling _that _was a button he just shouldn't push.

"So it's your brother that's missing," Sam guessed.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Long enough."

"And you don't think it was these…Auphe…who took him."

"Absolutely not," Niko said firmly. "And before you even ask, no, I am not in denial. There are reasons that I think this, and most of them include the desire of the Auphe to cause _me_ extreme physical pain before they take my brother. So, no, it wasn't the Auphe, and besides them I have no leads except something a werewolf said about there being fewer creatures around to eat lately. Apparently someone has been killing them off, which is no loss to me, and probably…"

He stopped when he noticed Sam and Dean looking at each other. "What?"

"Fewer monsters all of the sudden? But no missing humans?" Dean said. "And no one knows _why_ these things are dying?"

Sam glanced at him. "You think?" he asked, surprised. "But wouldn't we have heard?"

"Do you tell everyone on the circuit where _you'll_ be every hunt?" Dean asked.

"Wait," Niko said slowly, everything beginning to click into place. "You two really think that my brother was taken by a _human?"_

"Yeah, a human," Dean agreed. "A hunter."

**TBC**

* * *

_Author's Note: I know they were all a little out of character, especially Niko, but keep in mind that this would probably be a confusing situation for everyone involved, and also Niko will be having issues without Cal, and all. Also, I have a feeling that there were large, gaping holes in this chapter, so if you spot anything that confuses you, please let me know so I can address it in the next chapter._

_And, as always, review, please!_


	5. Gordon

Chapter 4

Either he was an extraordinarily tall man, or Cal's point of view was skewed by his current position. Whatever the reason, the man looming over him looked _huge. _And cold. And angry. And…well, evil.

"Who're you?" Cal slurred, and then felt alarmed at how unfocused he sounded.

The man crouched down in front of him, looked for a moment into his face, and punched him squarely in the jaw.

For a moment, Cal thought his head had actually separated from his body, then returned to its spot with a couple of huge, gonging, clanging bells attached to it.

"Ow," he murmured, wishing he could wipe away the blood he felt trickling from the corner of his mouth.

The fist hit him again, this time from the other side, giving him another trickle of blood on the other side of his mouth—a matching set.

"Dude," he said irritably, the pain sobering him up a little. "What the hell is your problem?"

If he was anyone else, he probably would have regretted asking that question of an obviously abusive captor in such an insolent tone, but as it was, he simply felt his irritation mount again at the thought of a third punch.

It didn't come, though. Instead, the freaky-angry-scary man finally spoke, and his voice was absolutely saturated with malice.

"What's my problem? Well, gee, I don't know, whatever could it be?"

"I dunno. That's why I asked. I'm guessing it has something to do with me, though," Cal said, absently searching for slack in the ropes. There was none, and another punch put an end to his experimenting for the moment.

"Damn right it has something to do with you, _Caliban."_

Cal froze, then closed his eyes. "Aw, man…"

"Caliban…damn, appropriate name, I think. Isn't that the thing that pretended to be human but was really a monster?" the guy asked musingly.

"That's not exactly the way the story went, no. Consult your Shakespeare."

"Nah, I never had much of a thing for the guy. Too chatty."

"Man, seriously, what the hell?" Cal snapped. "We're seriously gonna sit here and talk literature?"

The guy chuckled a little, then turned serious and said, "Fine, you wanna get down to it? Let's get down to it." He leaned in close, his voice lowering to a near-whisper. "I know all about you, Caliban Leandros. Did you know that?"

"No, and I wish I didn't know. It' s kinda creepy."

Another smack. "Shut up. I know your daddy is something almost no human has seen and lived to tell the tale. I know how you and big brother have spent your whole life pretending you were human, and because of that, you've been given free reign to do whatever the hell you want to screw over the world. And I know that because of _that_ you were almost able to _end_ the world."

"Is there any point in trying to explain that to you?"

"You're a monster, kid, and I'm no fan of monsters."

"Really?"

"And I have a particular hatred of monsters who tried to _destroy the entire world._ Know what that means, kid?"

"I have a feeling I'm gonna find out, whether I want to or not."

"It _means,"_ the guy went on, "that out of all the things I've killed, _you're _the only one who gets special treatment."

"Well, gee, thanks, but if we're gonna get down and dirty, shouldn't you buy me dinner first? Or at least tell me your name?" Cal asked wryly.

The man smiled, baring yellowed teeth.

Then he proceeded to prove that those punches from before had really only been light taps, and Cal proceeded to wish devoutly for more drugs.

XXX

He'd been an idiot. Niko realized that now. He should have realized the moment the werewolf had told him about the dried-up food source that it was significant. His brain must have been entirely asleep, but that was no excuse.

In the front seat, Dean and Sam were talking in lowered voices, and Niko studied their profiles intently from the back.

_Hunters._ It was…not a title he'd heard before, and he wondered about that. He'd always considered himself to be intimately acquainted with the ins and outs of the supernatural world. He'd spent Cal's whole life in that world, sometimes swimming, sometimes drowning, but always submerged in it. And now he found that there was a whole aspect of it that he'd just…missed entirely. The good side, if such a term could be applied. Now he knew that there was a whole slew of people who protected the world, who did the kind of thing that he and Cal did.

And n ow he was riding in the car of two of those people, and accepting outside help from almost complete strangers. He hadn't done that in…well, he'd never done that. But as much as he hated to admit it, too much time had passed since Cal had gone missing, and he was beginning to get desperate. And the two of them did seem to be fairly professional, as if they knew what they were talking about.

He wondered how many times they'd killed.

But really, all of this paled in comparison to what they'd _said._

_One of their people took Cal._

Of course, he'd grilled Dean and Sam pretty thoroughly after they'd let slip _that_ little detail, and he realized after they'd told him everything about the hunting life that it wasn't really one of "their" people. In fact, it had probably been someone they'd never met before in their lives, and as such, they couldn't understand why Cal would have been a target.

Niko could, but he wasn't sure he was going to tell Dean and Sam.

He was pretty sure he wasn't.

And all the while, as he was thinking these things, there was another, darker thought lurking at the very back of his mind that he refused to examine but knew was there all the same.

Because of course he realized what hunters did with those they hunted. He realized it, and he absolutely refused to believe it.

Cal was just fine, and he would continue to be just fine as long as it took for Niko to get him back home and kill him for doing this to his big brother.

There was just no other option.

XXX

Cal was flying high, way, way above any pain he should have been feeling, and he had been for some time. Only this time, it wasn't because he was drugged to the gills—which meant that it wouldn't last long. It never did.

He had no idea how long this had been going on, but it was long enough that a sort of pattern had been established. It wasn't a pattern he liked, either. First, there was pain—sharp, dull, throbbing, crushing, the whole gamut—followed by a rise up into the happy place where he _knew_ it hurt, but it didn't really matter, and then a spiral down into deep dark oblivion from which he would at some point be wrenched by more pain.

He wasn't sure how long his torturer had been doing this, but the man was a genius at it. He seemed to know exactly how much pain and blood he could coax out of Cal without actually killing him, and he seemed to have a truly astounding array of tools. Not that Cal could really make out exactly what was being used on him. Currently, when he could see at all, it was through a sort of gray film.

Sometimes, a voice filtered through the haze, its tone drifting between intrigued and irritated. When Cal could make out words, they were mostly about how impossibly resilient he was and why hadn't he just died already?

None of this was particularly enjoyable, but Cal welcomed the moments of oblivion the most, and he felt a stab of relief when another one began to settle over him like a blanket. He let the darkness sweep him away with one word echoing through his mind.

_Niko…_

XXX

"This is the place," Niko murmured, speaking for the first time since he'd gotten Sam and Dean's story. With a grunt of what Niko could only assume was assent, Dean pulled the car over and turned off the engine.

Sam turned around as Niko put his hand on the door handle. "So should we…come in, or what?"

"Why?" Niko asked, confused.

"Well…so we can, you know, start getting to the bottom of this. Figure out who got your brother and why and how to get him back."

Niko stared at him, trying to figure out what to say. He couldn't think of anything, because he honestly hadn't expected Sam and Dean to be willing to farther than they already had. He hadn't expected them to be willing to actually help him get Cal back, and the idea that Sam, at least, took it for granted that he and Dean would be putting their jobs aside for the moment to focus on Cal was…well, weird.

"Niko?"

Niko shook his head slightly at the question. "Yes…yes, all right, come in."

XXX

The Winchesters didn't react to the apartment at all, let alone with the disgust they really should have shown. They didn't even seem to notice the drabness, the water stains, the depressing general décor.

So, either they really did live in that amazing car, or…

Or they were distracted by Promise—that one was more likely.

"You've brought friends," the vampire observed, greeting him with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Not quite friends. I met them when I went to talk to Charlotte. This is Dean and Sam Winchester—they want to help us find Cal."

"Really?" Promise said, sounding surprised (but politely, of course). "You convinced them to help you in under an hour?"

"There was no convincing," Niko told her.

"We volunteered," Sam added. "Well, I did, anyway, and Dean followed."

"Hey!"

"What?"

"You make me sound like a…a puppy or something! That's your gig, remember?"

Promise tilted her head to the side. "Niko, I think it's time you told me the whole story."

XXX

Promise was, of course, unsurprised at the existence of hunters, but she was surprised at the idea of one in New York.

"And you have no idea who this hunter could be? Either of you?" Promise asked.

"No, and we're not even sure that it _was_ a hunter. It doesn't really make any sense, because we don't _ever _target humans, but…well, everything else fits," Sam explained.

"Well, perhaps I can help fill in some blanks," Promise said. Niko gave her a questioning look, certain that she would never tell them about Cal without his permission, but at a loss as to what else she could be talking about. Glancing at him, she continued, "I have some new information. Gabriel contacted me a little while after you left."

"He…and he has more for us?" Niko said, putting a lid on his excitement and tamping it down firmly.

"I'm not sure, but you can decide once I tell you. You see, Gabriel was lying to you when he said he had nothing, and since then he's been trying to decide whether or not to come clean to me."

It took all of Niko's practice in meditation to keep hold of his anger. "He withheld information when my brother is _missing?"_

"He was scared, Niko, and when I tell you what he told me, you'll understand why." She watched him until he unclenched and then said, "The fact that there is a hunter in the city may help to explain this, but over the past few weeks, vampires have been dying at an extraordinary rate. It doesn't seem to matter who they are or what they do or eat—half in the city have died, and died bloodily. And…well, it _is_ unpleasant, but it looks like many of them were…tortured first."

Only then did she realize that Dean and Sam were…very unhappy with what she'd just told them.

"Sam? Dean? Is something the matter?"

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Dean asked his brother.

"I'm thinking Gordon."

Dean sighed. "Damn."

**TBC**


	6. Vision

Chapter 5

"We should've guessed," Dean sighed. "It's been too long since we've had this kind of annoyance."

"What's he doing_ here_, though?" his brother asked. "What could he possibly _want?"_

"Oh, I dunno. Death. Destruction. Big pain on little monsters."

"And apparently Cal."

"Yeah, apparently Cal," Dean agreed. "Which brings us to a huge question: why? I mean, Gordon has issues. Lots of them. But he takes them out on vampires and ghosts and demons—not humans. Well, except us, but we're special."

"Maybe Cal is, too?" Sam hazarded.

"What, you think Cal did something to piss him off? Like what?"

"Uh…like being real close personal friends with a vampire…?"

"Oh. That. Right." Dean shook his head. "Okay, so Gordon has Cal. What can _we_ do about it?"

For some reason, Sam looked annoyed, but before he could reply, Niko spoke up.

"Excuse me," he said, struggling for patience. "Who's Gordon?"

XXX

Cal tried really hard to keep his repetition of "Niko" to himself, but eventually the pain grew to such an unbearable amount that he found himself shouting it—just once, but very clearly, and he regretted it almost immediately when his torturer stopped cutting into him like a Thanksgiving turkey long enough to say, "Niko. That's your brother, right?"

Cal rolled his eyes in his general direction and tried to breathe in a way that didn't send knives through him. He must have managed a pretty good glare, though, because the guy looked deeply pleased with himself.

"Yeah, good ol' Niko. Don't you be worrying about him, now—it takes the fun out of things. Besides, you two won't be separated forever. He'll be joining you eventually. One way or another."

Cal felt the knife parting his skin and began to fade again, the words and a feeling of general terror following him down.

XXX

"So, to sum up, this Gordon Walker is a hunter, like you, but one who is bordering on evil and—well, insane. Correct?"

"Well…yeah," Dean said. "That's actually…a pretty good description."

"And he kills fairly indiscriminately, and even threatened Sam, and he's still breathing air?"

"Well, he never intended to actually kill me," Sam said. "He just cut me a little. Dean got off worse that time. We did leave him tied to a chair in an abandoned house for three days, though."

"That was fun…" Dean added, smiling at the memory.

"Well, you'll excuse me if I can't seem to find that remotely comforting right now," Niko snapped, more harshly than he'd intended.

"Hey, man, it's not like we could just kill him!" Dean said sharply. "He's still _human! _We don't kill humans."

"Yes, and that's all well and good, but you see, you didn't kill him, and neither did anyone else, and now _my brother is missing."_ He still refused to let his mind even begin to approach the D word.

"Well, hopefully we'll be able to do something about that," Sam pointed out. "And we should start by trying to figure out why exactly Gordon took Cal in the first place."

"I thought we decided that it was just because of that vampire. Promise. Where'd she go, anyway?"

"She slipped out after you told us the whole story of Gordon. She does that. She'll have gone to get information on where this Gordon could be," Niko said.

"Oh. Well, cool. Anyway, what made you change your mind, Sam?"

Sam shrugged. "I dunno, it's just…the more I think about it, the more it doesn't make sense. I mean, if it was just the tie to Promise, well…Niko, you're her boyfriend, aren't you?"

"I am."

"And that's way closer to her than her boyfriend's little brother. So why aren't you the one he went after?"

"Well, the guy _is_ a lunatic," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah, but he also doesn't just pick people at random. He doesn't really care who he hurts, but he chooses carefully. So why Cal?"

Niko could see no help for it. If their knowledge could help save Cal—he didn't see how it could, but he was hardly all-knowing, after all—then there was only one option. He could always find a way to ensure their silence later, if he had to.

"I know."

XXX

The beatings had stopped.

That in itself was a relief, but Cal couldn't help but feel like it also meant something bad, that when someone like this evil man stopped hurting you it was only because he had something in his mind he liked better.

And anything that he liked, Cal was pretty sure _he_ was going to hate.

_Really_ hate.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying here alone, hurting and chained and angry and more scared than he cared to admit. Probably hours, maybe a day—long enough for the worst of the pain to abate a little. He hadn't really noticed the time passing as he drifted in and out of consciousness, but now he heard steps coming down the stairs again.

"How we feelin' down here, Caliban?"

His voice was loud and gratingly—if falsely—cheerful, and Cal groaned in annoyance.

"That good, huh? Well, it's okay. It won't last much longer, anyway—I'm done with you now."

"…Huh. Just like that. I'm feeling like _that's_ no god."

A chuckle. "Not for you, no. But for me?"

A hand fisted in his hair, and Cal felt a sharp pain in his scalp as he was pulled up. Then came the familiar sting of the needle and the equally familiar effect.

"Well, for me it's just fun."

XXX

"_What?"_

"Dean…" Sam said quietly, although he didn't seem sure why he was protesting his brother's anger.

"Sorry, I meant _what?!"_ Dean repeated louder. "Your brother's a demon?!"

"_No,"_ Niko said, almost letting slip his anger. "His father was. Our mother was…human." _Almost._ "He has the blood in him, but he doesn't let it out. If he did he might even be safe—he might be able to join the Auphe and they'd stop hunting him. But he won't because he hates that part of himself more than even a hunter ever could. Cal is a good man."

"We believe you," Sam said.

"We do?" Dean asked.

"Dean, come on. He didn't have to tell us any of this."

"Well, yeah, we've met honest people before. They're usually liars."

There was a quiet hiss as Niko half-drew one of his swords. "That isn't a word you want to use to describe me. I told you this because I am looking for the slightest chance to save my little brother. I told you in case it might help you help me. Does it?"

Sam looked down and said reluctantly, "It might, but…I'm not sure how."

"It does mean that he may not be dead, though," Dean said thoughtfully, and both Niko and Sam looked at him immediately.

"What do you mean? Of course he isn't dead," Niko said, feeling an odd swooping sensation in his stomach.

"Dean?" Sam said, somehow making it a question Dean understood.

"Well, remember Gordon's M.O. with Lenora? I'm thinking, if that was what he did to just a vampire, and he knows exactly what Cal is, then…wouldn't he want to do something else? Something…I dunno, more?"

"I dunno, Dean, it sounds pretty flimsy…" Sam said doubtfully.

"Got any better theories?"

Sam looked a little queasy now, and Niko had to ask even though he had a bad feeling he might already know.

"What?"

"Don't tell him, Dean," Sam said. "He doesn't need to know."

"On the contrary," Niko said calmly. "I absolutely do need to know. I need to know so that I can know exactly how much I need to kill this Gordon."

Yes, he was definitely channeling Cal lately.

"Tell me."

Sam sighed and waved a hand at Dean in silent invitation, and Dean said, "Okay, so…don't kill the messenger, but Gordon…last time we met him, the vampire we were fighting over—he was torturing her. Before he killed her. He wanted to make her hurt. And…well, he seems to like doing that, so I'm thinking….the more he hates, the longer he'll take. You get me?"

Niko felt as if something were wedged into his throat, so he spoke around it. "I understand. We have to find them. Now."

"Really? Very helpful. And do you suddenly have some kind of insight about where the hell they could be?"

And as if in reply, Sam groaned and sank to the floor.

XXX

_Everything was dark, but Sam could still see. He was getting pretty used to that, though, so it didn't take him too long to start looking around and memorizing things._

_He was in a cemetery—that much was instantly obvious—and he wasn't there alone. Someone was there—two someones, actually. In the dark, he could see the figure striding through the graves with an obvious purpose in mind._

_There was a body slung over his shoulder, and Sam immediately followed, because he just knew that the figure was Gordon and the body was Cal and they were in a cemetery and none of that could possibly add up to anything good._

_They stopped at a grave, a newly turned grave, and Sam felt a flicker of horror because he knew what was going to happen._

_And like every single other time, he wished he didn't._

**TBC**


	7. Burial

Chapter 6

"Sam?" Dean asked gently, kneeling down next to his brother and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Sammy?" Sam pressed his fingers into his forehead as if trying to dig something out, and Niko saw Dean's knuckles go white as he tightened his grip.

Watching them, Niko thought of himself and Cal and felt an almost physical ache, but before he could love his tenuous composure, Sam muttered something that made him forget his feelings entirely.

"A grave…" the hunter rasped, his voice not hoarse, but ragged. "An open grave…"

Dean held a hand out and Sam took it, using it to get shakily to his feet. Dean supported him the few steps back to the couch, both of them seeming not to notice that Niko was about to rip both their heads off.

Or maybe they did, because as soon as Sam was seated he went on.

"I saw a graveyard, and…Gordon was there. He had someone with him—Cal, I'm assuming. Whoever it was, he was—he wasn't fighting. And there was this grave—it had already been dug up. And Gordon…he…"

Sam trailed off, meeting Niko's eyes, and Niko knew.

He felt something deep inside him crystallize at that look, hardening him, freezing him, making him into a man able to shove his terror and pain and disgust and rage down where he couldn't feel it. He knew that later he would want to know how Sam had gotten this information, what had happened to make him so sure of where Cal was, but now was not the time for that.

He took a step forward, and the voice that came out of him didn't even sound like his own.

"Did you get the name on the grave?"

XXX

"Okay, here she is."

Niko didn't move from his position on the floor, merely looking up at the laptop on the desk as he absently stroked the mala beads in his hand. "She's pretty," he commented upon seeing the brunette girl in the picture on the site Sam had pulled up. He didn't mow why he felt the need to point it out—details seemed oddly important right now.

"Uh…yeah. Sure. Okay. What're you doing down there, anyway?" Dean asked, looking down at him from his position behind Sam's chair.

"Meditating," Niko replied.

"Uh…right. So what's her story?" Dean asked, shaking his head and turning back toward the computer.

"Pretty much what it says. Murdered. They arrested her husband. Classic vengeful spirit stuff."

"And Gordon didn't torch her?" Dean asked, surprised.

Sam shrugged. "Not that I saw. Maybe someone else already did."

"Or maybe he just didn't care," Dean said darkly.

Niko cleared his throat. "It doesn't matter. Which cemetery?"

Sam told him, and he was out the door before the laptop was in its bag.

XXX

Dean beat the speed limit to a broken, bloody pulp all the way to the cemetery, but the eight-minute-fifty-three-second trip still felt like an eternity to Niko. And yet, even though he felt as if he would fly apart at any moment, the two hunters kept glancing back at him as if waiting for something. As if he weren't reacting _enough._

But Niko knew himself, and he knew that if he allowed himself to show even a tenth of what he was feeling, they would all come to regret it—especially Dean, who seemed to treasure this silly car above almost all other things.

When they finally pulled up at the large iron gates, Niko leapt out while the car was still moving, listening to Dean cursing as he ran toward the entrance. He'd never run so fast in his life, and so consequently he found the grave while Sam and Dean were still huffing to catch up.

Someone was waiting for them.

He was leaning against the grave, patient as anything, and if he'd already been waiting a lifetime and could wait for several more, as long as he knew Cal would be dead at the end of those lifetimes.

And he was evidently very rude, because he didn't even wait for Sam and Dean to catch up before he lifted a gun from behind the gravestone and started firing.

Guns were such _distasteful _things, Niko reflected as he ducked behind the nearest stone. They were all noise and no finesse. Such sharp smell sand loud bangs, and for what? A dead body with a large hole in it and far more blood and brain matter than there should be.

Niko killed things that needed killing, but he hated easy, messy slaughter, and in the wrong hands, that was all a gun could bring.

This gun was most definitely in the wrong hands.

As Niko tried to decide his next move, he became aware that Dean was crouched behind the gravestone across from him. Niko glanced at him, and Dean almost immediately began to make obscure hand signals at him.

Niko thought he was very patient—he spent almost three whole seconds trying to figure the signals out before he did exactly what he wanted to anyway. He waited for the sound of Gordon taking a step forward—checking to see if he'd hit anyone, Niko supposed—and then he gathered himself and simply leapt over the stone he was hiding behind.

Gordon squeezed off a shot, but by then the gun was pointing up in the air. Then it was in Niko's hand, and then it was empty, and then Gordon was on the ground, all before he could figure out what was going on.

"Or that works, too," Dean said conversationally from behind him. "Here, boy wonder, we brought you an extra." Niko turned just in time to catch the shovel flying at him. "So tell me," the hunter went on as he, Niko, and Sam started digging. "You sure you don't have any of that Auphe blood in you?"

"Dean!" Sam protested.

"What? I've just never seen anyone human move that fast, is all. So do you?"

Niko didn't look up. "No. Now dig."

XXX

Niko had no idea how he maintained his sanity as he sank his shovel into the dirt time after time. For the first couple of feet, he simply concentrated on the breathing of those around him, but by the time they got down three feet, his hands were shaking. When the got to four, he was mentally reviewing all the ways he was going to kill Cal for doing this to him. As they passed the fifth, he began to promise Cal anything and everything, the only stipulation being that he had to be alive to claim it. Somewhere near the sixth he moved on to blind prayer.

By the seventh, he wasn't thinking anything at all.

He was so out of it that he barely registered the hollow _thunk_ and what it meant. He simply switched to autopilot, tossing his shovel up and out of the grave and going to his knees and pulling up the lid of the coffin without thinking, his brain surrounded by fog.

Until he saw Cal.

Except…except it couldn't be Cal. No. Cal would never be so lifeless, so pale and bloody and still. It could only be some pretend Cal lying in this _coffin_ in this _grave_ with this _skeleton_ lying almost on top of him and _oh, God, get him out of there _now.

And just like that, Niko was pulling both of them up onto solid ground and collapsing there, Cal cradled in his arms.

He wasn't sure which he felt first—the pulse beneath the fingers wrapped around Cal's wrist, or the shallow but steady rise and fall of Cal's breathing. It didn't matter—whichever came first, they combined to lay siege on whatever remained of Niko's composure.

Niko longed to let them win. He felt suddenly so _tired_ of being strong, of keeping control. He finally had Cal back and suddenly all he wanted to do was let go.

But he couldn't. Not yet. Because right now Cal was bleeding, and cut, and drugged, and probably traumatized, and Niko was still his big brother.

He couldn't fold yet, because Cal still needed him.

He couldn't fold until he _fixed this._

**TBC**

* * *

_Author's Note: I know it was a short chapter and not a particularly satisfying one, but the next one will probably be longer and there will finally be talking and questions and answers and all that good stuff. Or…there should be, if all goes as planned…_


	8. Resurrection

Chapter 7

_It wasn't supposed to turn out like this._

_When they'd run out of soy milk this morning, it had seemed inconsequential—a small, irritating road block along the smooth path to breakfast cereal that could be shoved out of the way by the simple expedient of sending an annoyed little brother out early to buy more. And sure, Cal had been more than a little unhappy being rousted out of bed at seven A.M. to jog down to the corner market for no other reason than Niko's claim that he needed the exercise more than his big brother—but that wasn't unusual, either._

_Cal was just supposed to go buy milk._

_He wasn't supposed to just disappear off the face of the planet._

_And yet, no one had seen him. He'd never even made it down to the market. He must have been overcome and abducted right in front of the apartment, and Niko had just let it happen._

_Again._

XXX

"Gordon's gone."

For a long moment, the words didn't make sense to Niko. He was too busy absorbing the fact that Cal was _there_ and _alive_, but when one of the Winchester brothers came up behind him and gripped his shoulder, he had no choice but to wrench his attention from his brother long enough to ask, "What?"

"Gordon's gone," Sam repeated urgently. "We have to get Cal out of here before he comes back."

"Need help carrying him?" Dean added.

Niko didn't even bother dignifying that one with an answer. He simply turned back to Cal and lifted his brother easily into his arms.

Cal had lost weight—almost all of it, in fact. Gordon probably hadn't fed him at all, and Niko felt anger leap up into his throat, choking him. He successfully forced it down to deal with later, but he didn't take his eyes off Cal the entire way back to the car.

XXX

"_Cal's gone."_

_It was like déjà vu—almost an exact mirror to the last time Niko had asked for help, after Darkling. His stomach churned at the very thought._

_Promise stared at him from her doorway, her hair, face and clothing all perfect despite the fact that it was only eight o'clock in the morning. After a moment, she stepped to the side and said, "Come in. Tell me what happened."_

"_That's just it, though," Niko said, stepping into Promise's lavish house and turning to face her. "Nothing happened at all. He just went down to the store for milk this morning, and…"_

"_And you haven't seen him since," Promise supplied when Niko paused._

"_And no one else has, either. He never made it to the store. He was taken right in front of the apartment, and I didn't stop it." _Just like last time.

_And just like last time, Promise came to him and held him without a word._

XXX

Sam and Dean elected not to leave after they got Cal and Niko home, and Niko didn't even have a spare thought to wonder why, so it was a lucky thing that Cam decided to take pity and explain it to him.

"Look, we don't have to stay if you really just want to be alone, but…well, we probably should. Gordon knows where you live now, and he's going to come for Cal. I don't know what he'll do, but he's a damn good hunter and he probably won't pull out any stops. And if you're going to take care of your brother, you need someone to watch your back."

Niko didn't even pause on his way to Cal's bedroom. "All right. Make yourselves at home. The fridge is empty, but the TV works most of the time. Enjoy yourselves."

And then he closed the door between them, and finally—_finally_—it was just he and Cal again. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't just sit down and rest alongside his brother. Instead, he set Cal down on the bed and began examining him for injuries.

The first thing he noticed was that Gordon had used a knife, and used it liberally. There were cuts, half-healed ones and almost fresh ones and even a couple that had scabbed over completely. Looking at the sheer numb4er of them, Niko could only feel thankful for the half-Auphe heritage that had healed Cal quickly enough to keep him from bleeding out.

With a small sigh, he began to gently remove the tattered remains of Cal's clothing. Cal would be acutely embarrassed when he finally woke up, but Niko didn't' care so long as he _did_ wake up.

Once he'd tossed the bloody rags into the corner—he'd burn them before Cal saw them—he finished his examination, and felt his stomach twist at what he saw. Between the layers of dirt and grime and the dried blood were the deep bruises that came from severe beatings. On top of that, Cal's leg looked as if it had been cut almost to the bone, and surrounding the slice were more bruises and probably a bad sprain to the ankle. That injury, at least, and probably others, would need stitches.

And Niko couldn't do anything about any of it without getting Cal _clean_ first.

Which was another thing Cal would probably protest.

When he woke up.

XXX

"_What if it was a human?"_

_Niko looked up at Promise's mild suggestion. "What do you mean?"_

"_Exactly what I said. It doesn't have to be the fault of a demon."_

_Niko shook his head. "A human would be no match for Cal."_

"_Anyone can have an off day."_

"_Yes, and Cal has had many, but even on an off day Cal could take any human, anywhere. Still…you're right. I can't afford to make assumptions. All right, I'll work to scratch humans from the list."_

"_Yes, and in a city of four million humans and six million others that will be a help," Promise said—only since Promise never injected a note of sarcasm into her voice for any reason, she sounded deceptively serious._

"_Well, we need a place to start, and that's as good as any. So I can work on that, and you can try to find someone to give me any kind of information."_

XXX

Giving the unconscious Cal a bath was…an experience. He'd done it before and he'd to it again when he had to, but it was never fun. At least Sam and Dean had the decency to stay in the living room, though. And once Cal was clean and bandaged and back in bed, he did look better.

Niko, unable to find anything else to do to make Cal more comfortable, perched on the edge of the bed and took a moment to just take his brother in.

Cal still looked too thin, too pale, but the bath had done him good. He looked warmer, the wounds that had needed stitches were neatly taken care of, and he was no longer bleeding. His breaths were deeper and more regular now, his pulse stronger and steadier.

He would live, and for a moment, all the anger and pain faded, and all Niko felt was gratitude.

XXX

"_This is an impossible task, Niko."_

_The words practically exploded from Promise, uncharacteristically loud, as if she'd been holding them back for so long that they were out of her control now._

"_Yes, I agree, it _is_ difficult to find a good salad in downtown New York, but we must press on." It simply tripped off his tongue, sounding almost exactly like Cal, and Niko was so taken aback that he almost missed Promise's reply._

"_You know I wasn't talking about our lunch order, Niko" Promise said softly._

"_Don't, Promise."_

"_I know you don't want to hear it, but trying to find Cal in a city of ten million is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles buried in a haystack in Kansas. It can't be done, Niko. Not quickly enough."_

"_Promise."_

"_Niko, you have to think about this. It's already been three days. If Cal were physically able, he would have made it back by now."_

"_Which only means that he's tied up, or unconscious. Maybe drugged."_

"_Or maybe he's dead."_

_The words were so sharp, so stark, that Niko could only stare._

"_Look, Niko, I'm sorry, but this isn't like last time. Last time we had a body for Cal, some hope that he was still here. This time we have nothing, and you are killing yourself trying to create something left to save."_

"_Get out."_

"_Niko…"_

"_Leave," Niko said coolly. "Come back when you're willing to help, or stay away. Either way, get out now."_

"_Niko, please."_

"_Go."_

_She did, and Niko was left to whisper to an empty room._

"_He isn't. He can't be…"_

XXX

_What if Cal's dead?_

The thought came suddenly, with the force of an anvil, and it almost knocked Niko off the bed. It didn't make any sense that he was thinking this now, with Cal two inches from him, when he hadn't the entire time Cal was just _missing_ from his life. Nevertheless, he was thinking it, and after a moment he realized that this was just every negative thought, every bad feeling, every fear he'd shoved down, finally rising up and asserting themselves, all at the same time. He hadn't allowed himself to even approach the idea that he might actually have lost Cal this time, and all that repression was coming back to bite him in the ass.

Sitting there on Cal's bed, watching him sleep, Niko suddenly had a horrible choking feeling that Cal _had_ died, and despite knowing that it was just his mind playing tricks on him, Niko couldn't keep the tears from his eyes or the lump from his throat. Automatically, he reached out and wrapped hand around Cal's wrist again, letting the steady beat there soothe him until he no longer felt quite so…fragile.

And Cal, oblivious in the way Niko had missed so much, slept on.

XXX

"_You're right, Niko."_

_Niko didn't look up as Promise spoke from the doorway. "About this, yes, I certainly am. Come in."_

_He felt more than heard her come up behind him, and then a hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I apologize. I was wrong to say what I did. I was concerned for you, which tends to bring out the worst in me."_

_Niko looked over at her, studying her for a moment before replying. "All right. We won't mention it again. Now, do you have anything for me?"_

_Promise squeezed his shoulder and then dropped her hand. "I do."_

XXX

"What do you think he's doing in there?"

The muffled question came from Dean, who didn't bother to keep his voice down and consequently could easily be heard through the apartment's thin walls, as could his brother's reply.

"What d'ya mean? He's taking care of Cal. Probably just waiting for him to wake up."

"But he's been in there forever. Doesn't he ever have to take a leak?"

"Um…Dean?"

"What?"

"You're still mad, aren't you?"

"What makes you think I was ever mad?"

Sam cleared his throat. "Dean, come on. You don't want to be here. You hate this city. You just wanted to come in, do the job, and get out. Instead you never got to kill the vampire and now we're stuck her protecting two guys you don't trust from a man you never wanted to see again and can't actually kill because he's human. Why wouldn't you be angry?"

Dean paused, then said, "Yeah, well, we're in this now. Not much I can do about t. Now shut up and pass the remote. This show is boring."

The voices fell silent, and Niko turned back to Cal. "That Dean…" he said, speaking for the first time since they'd gotten home. "He reminds me a great deal of you. You both have an almost supernatural ability to drive me insane." He reached out and took Cal's hand in his. "You really have no idea how much damage I'm going to cause over this, little brother. Gordon will pay for what he did, I assure you, but…well, I'd really like you to be there for it."

For a moment, he was certain that Cal's head turned slightly toward his voice, but then all was still again.

"That's all right," Niko went on quietly. "There's no hurry. Take your time. I wasn't insinuating that we should go right now. Gordon can wait. You just rest now."

He really should have anticipated those words being the very thing that nudged Cal awake—his little brother always did do exactly the opposite of what he was told. And yet, despite knowing that right now sleep was the best thing for Cal, that didn't stop Niko's heart from giving a powerful leap when Cal's eyes finally opened to show the gray irises he'd missed so much.

Cal's head turned slowly toward him, half-lidded eyes meeting wide-open ones. Niko studied those eyes and was puzzled, but relieved, when he saw no fear there. There was no happiness, either, though, just exhaustion and confusion.

His throat worked, trying to form words, and Niko smiled and leaned forward to speak. "Shh, don't talk right now. Just go back to sleep. I'll be right here."

Cal's eyes remained locked firmly with his, but after a few moments he appeared unable to keep them open. Niko kept his smile in place until he was sure Cal had fallen back to sleep, but after a few minutes he crawled up the bed to lie down next to his brother, pulled him close into a one-armed embrace, and at long last allowed the tears to come.

**TBC**

* * *

_Author's Note: All right, so I know I promised a little more resolution in this one, but…well, things didn't go exactly the way I planned. This just seemed like a good spot to stop for me, especially since if I included everything I wanted to I probably wouldn't have been able to update for another month or so. School is _crazy, _y'all. But I'll try to have another chapter up—probably the second-to-last or so—as soon as I can and I promise that in that one, there WILL be more Cal and Niko interaction. Please don't throw things at me! _


	9. Dreams

_Author's Note: There's something you guys have to understand about this chapter before you read it: I have no idea where it came from or what the hell. This was supposed to be the second-to-last chapter and have nothing more to it than Niko and Cal and talking, but I started writing and this came out instead. That being the case, it might feel randomly inserted or just hastily written. I'm sorry if it feels that way to you guys, but I'm hoping I'm just over-analyzing. I guess there's only one way to find out, huh?_

* * *

Chapter 8

It took Niko the better part of an hour to tear himself away from Cal. It was harder than it should have been to take his hand from Cal's pulse, his arm from around Cal's shoulders, his eyes from the rise and fall of Cal's chest. It should have been easy. After all, Cal was here and alive and he certainly wasn't going anywhere—and Niko still didn't want to leave the room, let alone the bed, for a single moment.

But Sam and Dean were still waiting, and they didn't deserve to cool their heels watching bad TV in an equally bad apartment all night long, so after a while Niko checked to make sure Cal was still deeply asleep, then placed the hand in his on Cal's chest, squeezed, and let go to slip off the bed and out the door.

The Winchester brothers were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, Sam with his head propped on one hand, dozing, and Dean absently flipping through channels without any apparent interest in what they showed. Neither heard Niko, of course, but Dean saw him in the doorway and reached over to nudge Sam awake.

Sam blinked and mumbled, "Wha' time'z't?"

Dean craned his neck to look at the digital clock on the end table. "Two thirty-two A.M."

"Ugh…" Sam muttered, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Dropping his hands, he looked up at Niko and asked, "How's Cal?"

"Sleeping," Niko said, stepping into the room and heading straight for his favorite chair—the one with a short sword and two throwing knives strapped to the bottom. "I gave him some Tylenol for the pain when I stitched him up, but I don't want to give him anything stronger until I know what Gordon did to keep him down so long." He paused, rubbed his eyes. "He woke up for a few moments. He didn't seem scared or angry. He was mostly confused—I think he didn't believe he was here. That he wasn't dreaming." He paused again, then said with quiet relief, "He'll be all right."

After a moment, Sam asked tentatively, "And what about you?"

Niko stared at him for a moment, honestly surprised and even slightly touched. "I'll be all right, too. We've been through worse than this before."

"Worse?" Dean asked, sounding incredulous. "Than _that?_ Like _what?"_

The words rang into a silence that lasted at least a couple of minutes, while Dean looked slightly annoyed and Sam looked like he kind of wanted to sink into the floor. Then Niko spread his hands in his lap, looked down at them, met Sam's eyes, then Dean's, and finally said, "Look, I realize what I owe both of you in this. You saved Cal's life. That's a debt I can't repay. But that doesn't mean I can or will tell you anything more about Cal, or about his past. That's his business and his alone. I know he'll wish to meet you when he wakes up, but you should know that if you ask him questions about his life, or pressure him in any way, I will not hesitate to throw you out and lock the door, Gordon or no."

Niko realized as he said it that it was unfair. Sam and Dean weren't staying because they wanted to, or even out of curiosity about Cal. They were staying to help, and being threatened for it. On the other hand, though, Niko had been protecting Cal all his life, from everything, and if it had to, that could include the men sitting in front of him. He wouldn't apologize for that, ever.

"We should talk about something else," he said after a few moments of awkward silence. "Such as Gordon. Why hasn't he come by now?"

Sam seized on the new subject with obvious relief. "Actually, I'm kind of wondering that one myself, Dean. I mean, letting Cal and the guys who saved him get away so easily—it's not even just against his M.O., it's against his religion or something. At first I thought he just couldn't find this place again, but it's been hours. He's had more than enough time."

"And you're sure that's not giving him too much credit?" Niko asked skeptically.

"Not according to every single person we've talked to about him. According to all the other hunters we know or know people who know, Gordon can track anyone, anywhere. And us being in the same city—it doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't have to," Niko said, almost to himself. "Whenever he comes, wherever he comes, I'll be ready for him. And I'll kill him."

He stood and left to return to Cal before they could respond.

XXX

_Cal was dreaming._

_It was one of those weird dreams where he was aware of the dream, where he could look around and think, _This is impossible.

_In the dream, he was standing in the sun. He could almost feel the warmth of it on his face, tingeing his pale skin red. He didn't mind, in the dream, because it just felt good. _Safe.

_And on some basic level _wrong_…_

_He looked around and realized he was standing in the front yard of a house. The yard was huge, cut down to a precise one and a half inches, surrounded by a white fence, and the house it belonged to was even huger. It was exactly what he always imagined the perfect house should look like—the kind that would make Ward Cleaver do a little skip and clap his hands._

_It was a ridiculous suburban fantasy, one Cal would have cringed from in the waking world, and the kids playing in the yard made it even more so._

_There were three of them, two boys and a girl, chasing each other around in a game of tag, laughing and smiling and watched closely by Niko. And Niko looked…happy, so happy._

_Cal was still trying to make sense of all this when he heard the door to the house open behind him. He turned to look as Promise came out onto the front porch. She was heavily pregnant and Cal was suddenly struck by the fact that at least one of these children belonged to her._

"_Time to eat," she called out into the yard, and the kids stopped their game almost instantly. Still laughing, they turned and ran toward the house._

_One of them saw him and stopped—the little girl. She didn't look confused as to why he was there, though. She simply laughed again and said around the bright bubble of it, "Daddy!"_

XXX

Cal seemed to be even more deeply asleep now, after he'd woken up that one time. He hadn't even moved since then, not so much as a twitch. But he was still breathing evenly, his pulse still steady, and Niko was watching him carefully.

Nothing was going to happen to him. Not again.

He would be just fine, and Niko forced his mind away from any thoughts that he wouldn't and onto another subject entirely.

Gordon.

Despite what he'd said to the Winchesters earlier, it wasn't making any sense. It didn't seem likely that anyone who had done what Gordon did to just allow his prey to escape so easily. The fact that he had left the graveyard so quickly after regaining consciousness—well, that wasn't so strange. That was probably more instinct than anything else, after he'd seen what Niko could do, but if he was as good a tracker as he was rumored to be…

He should have turned up to kill Cal by now, and the fact that there was still no sign of him was…worrying.

Of course, it could be that Gordon thought Cal was already dead. He could have already left town, sure that burying Cal alive had been enough. That would have made sense, given the lack of follow-through most humans displayed, except for one thing: Gordon had been at the graveyard when they'd arrived there. He'd clearly been planning to stay until he was absolutely sure Cal was dead, and Niko, Dean, and Sam had interrupted him.

Somehow, Niko didn't see the man just leaving town after that.

And yet…

_And yet he isn't here._

It didn't make any _sense._

XXX

_Cal had never been in a hospital before, but he'd always imagined that hey would smell horrible. A place where so many died and so many lived on in bodies wasted and diseased—it couldn't be a pleasant one._

_Except it was._

_Well, this part of it, anyway._

_This part was…nice. There was sun here, and warmth, and cute little babies._

_And there was George._

_And someone else._

"_Mr. Leandros, would you like to meet your daughter?"_

_Cal jumped a little and turned around. The nurse standing behind him smiled and took a step forward, making a motion as if to hold out the bundle in her arms._

_In response, Cal took a step back, and George's clear laughter rang through the room._

"_Oh, Cal, stop being such a baby! She won't bite."_

_Cal didn't feel quite as sure about that as she was, but before he could run away screaming the nurse stepped up to him, and then she was depositing the small bundle gently into his arms._

_Cal didn't want to look—was _afraid_ to look, really—but since this was a dream and all, it didn't seem to matter much what he did and didn't want. Moving with automatic motions, he lifted the child more securely into his arms and looked down into its—_her—_face._

_She was awake, and yet she wasn't crying. That seemed rather unusual—from what he'd heard, babies cried. All the time. But this one—she didn't. She just…watched. Her eyes were big and brown and they stared up at him with a calm curiosity. She studied him, and he stared at her, and it seemed like everything in the world—the hospital, the doctors, the nurses, even George—fell away._

_He had been afraid she would be Auphe, but she was the farthest thing from it. What she was…there was no word for it. She was tiny. She was beautiful. She was pure, perfect joy._

_She was love._

_And she was _his.

XXX

It hit Niko with all the force of a heavy mallet, and before it even sank in completely he was leaping up from Cal's bed and heading for the door.

Dean and Sam were sitting in the living room, and they didn't leap up as he came in, so his face must not have been reflecting his feelings.

"Gordon," he said without preamble. "I think I know the reason he hasn't come. I think he might have done more to Cal than we thought."

"Eh?" Dean asked. "What're you talking about?"

"That's why he hasn't come for Cal," Niko said. "He isn't planning to. He doesn't _need_ to, because he did something to ensure that his job will be finished."

"Okay, I'm feeling like we're a little behind here. What made you think of this now?"

"It came to me," Niko said simply. "A hunch, and my hunches are rarely wrong."

"So…hold on, you think that Gordon…poisoned him, or something?" Sam asked. He looked doubtful. "It'd have to be a pretty slow-acting one. _Really_ slow. And if he was going to poison him anyway, why would he bury the kid?"

"You kiddin' me?" Dean asked. "That's _exactly_ the kind of thing he'd do. He likes it hands-on, but he'd also want to make absolutely sure the job would get done. _Damn_ it, we should have thought of that before."

"Well, we didn't," Niko said shortly, shoving everything down inside him once again. "I need a phone."

XXX

_Cal jumped again, and this time he didn't land in a home or a hospital, but at a park. And it seemed that the standard of perfection held up even here, because this as the nicest park he'd ever set foot in. Here the grass was twice as green, the trees twice as tall, and he couldn't sense any demons or monsters or…well, anything but humans._

_Which actually didn't make any sense at all, because from where he was sitting on the bench, he could see the same kids who had been playing with his daughter in front of the white house, and somehow he knew that those boys were Promise's sons._

_The kids weren't too far away from him—close enough that he could see every move they made, hear every note in their laughter as they chased each other through the gravel, into and out of the jungle gym and back again._

_They seemed so…so genuinely happy._

_And even knowing that all of this was somehow _wrong_, Cal, watching them, couldn't help but feel genuinely happy right along with them._

XXX

"You have a _psychic?"_

Niko and Sam both sighed at almost exactly the same time, and for the second time Niko said, "Yes."

"You have your own _psychic?_ And you didn't use her to find Cal?"

Niko stared at him, long enough that even Sam began to shift uncomfortably, and then said, "Georgina is not _my_ psychic. She has her own free will, and that will does not voluntarily go against the will of the universe."

"Uh…come again?" Dean asked.

"She refuses to do anything to change the big picture," Niko explained. "She will only intervene in small matters, and Cal being taken—it was apparently part of the big picture."

"Huh. That's…uh…insane. So what makes you think she'll help this time?"

"She may not. Then again, she may be able to tell me whether or not he _has_ been infected with something, and that may be enough."

And if she couldn't, or wouldn't...he could rip that bridge to pieces when he came to it.

As it turned out, though, he didn't have to rip anything—nothing to do with George, anyway.

XXX

Niko was familiar with George's methods by now, but he could almost _feel _Dean rolling his eyes as the young psychic sat down next to Cal on the bed and took his hand, palm up, in hers.

George didn't seem to notice, though. She simply closed her eyes said, "Hmm…Cal…" as if calling for him. She stroked her fingers in circles in his palm, but did not look at his face. Beyond Cal's name, she didn't say anything, and the room was quiet for so long that all three of the men standing around it began to fidget—Dean and Sam outwardly, and Niko only on the inside.

Finally, George dropped Cal's hand and stood. She looked at Niko and said one word.

"_Xocactl."_

XXX

_Cal watched the children run for a long time before it occurred to him once again that nothing in this place was right. Here, the sun was too bright, the grass too green, the sky too blue. Niko and Promise's children were human and happy and _Cal_ was happy._

_Everything was perfect and all _wrong.

_And he couldn't seem to care._

_He knew he should. After all, the fact that he was happy and things weren't right and he was dreaming and time-hopping like that kid from _Back to the Future_ on crack—none of it could add up to anything good. They probably meant he was sick or dying or dead, and if that was the case, he should really be trying to get out of this place._

_But…well, if this was death…_

_He was pretty sure he was okay with it._

XXX

"_Xocactl…_that's…not a word…" Sam said slowly, looking at George as if fairly certain she was insane.

Her reply was to ignore him and speak to Niko. "I'm sorry. That's all I can tell you."

For a moment, Niko looked like he was going to press for more, but in the end he simply said, _"Xocactl."_

"Yes. I have to go now. I hope things go well for you."

"Um…are you _sure_ she's psychic?" Dean whispered to Niko as he watched George walk toward the door. He'd clearly thought he was inaudible to her, and was just as clearly startled when she stopped and turned to him.

"By the way, Dean Winchester, the Led Zeppelin tape you misplaced is wedged between the second and third gun from the left in your trunk. It fell out of your bag at the Red Dragon Motel and was buried when your brother rearranged the trunk against your wishes at the Sandy Shore Motel two days later." She paused, then smiled in that impish manner that she was perfectly capable of adopting when it suited her—the manner that always served to remind people that in addition to being a psychic with knowledge of ages past and future, she was also a teenage girl. "Yes, I am psychic."

By the time Sam stopped chortling and Dean picked his jaw up off the floor, Niko was halfway through dialing another number.

XXX

"It's a mystical virus."

Niko let the words fall like stones into the silence that had fallen after he'd hung up the phone. He felt numb, as if the information Robin had given him had been the last straw. It felt as if his entire body was wrapped in cotton wool, blocked off from all feeling and thought.

"It's like a time bomb, apparently, one that can't be detected. It won't manifest in any way that we associate with illness. It won't slow the breath or the pulse. There will be no fever or pain. He won't have anything visibly wrong at all. The virus attacks only his mind, grabbing it and holding it. He will simply lie there, trapped within himself, until he…" Niko paused, then went on in that odd voice he didn't even recognize as his own. "He won't wake up."

Dean and Sam were staring at him as if he were about to start ripping down the walls, but in fact his voice didn't even waver.

"Now, I don't think Gordon will be coming back any time soon and I would like to be alone with my brother, so thank you for your help, but I think it's time you left."

He didn't stay to see if they did as he requested.

XXX

Niko didn't lie next to Cal on the bed this time. Instead he sat down on the edge of the mattress so that he loomed over his brother and injected the note of authority into his voice that usually made Cal at least pay some attention.

"All right, Cal, I think it's time you listened to me now. You've been through this whole mess without me saying word one, but enough is enough. We've both been through more than we deserve and it's about time it stopped, so I want you to shake this thing off and wake up now." He paused and then added very quietly, "Please, little brother, come back to me."

"That won't work."

Niko didn't jump, but he was a little startled—and more than a little annoyed that he hadn't noticed anyone there. "I seem to be getting rusty. I truly had no idea you were in the apartment."

A snort, then, "Please, do you honestly think you could ever detect me if I didn't want you to?"

"Why are you here, Robin?"

"To help. Here."

Niko turned in time to snatch the bottle flying toward him out of the air. He studied the black liquid incuriously. "What is it?"

"Medicine."

Niko looked up at him and said slowly, "You said there was no cure."

"And I stand by that, being the one creature under the sun who is never wrong. I didn't say it was a cure, Niko. I said it was medicine. It's like an antibiotic, only…well, actually, it's nothing like an antibiotic. But it will draw the poison out of him, and instantly."

"That sounds like a cure. How is that not a cure?"

"You're thinking in human terms, Niko," Robin said gently, taking the vial back and studying it as he spoke. "Yes, the poison will be drawn out. But right now Cal is trapped in his mind—_deep_ down. The virus is keeping him there, and when it's drawn out Cal will be yanked back to the surface. Violently."

"How violently?" _How violently, that it would be worse than _this_?_

Robin hesitated, which should have been enough to tell him. Robin _never_ hesitated.

"Of the ten people I've heard of who had this virus and took the medicine, seven of them died from it. Two lived six months after being given the medicine, but with minds so fractured they didn't even remember their own languages, let alone their names or families. Only one survived the normal span of human years and remained sane all the while."

Niko nodded, turning the information over in his mind, still unable to penetrate that peculiar numbness. "But none of them were half-Auphe."

"No," Robin agreed quietly. "None were half-Auphe."

Niko nodded again, more slowly, then said, "Leave the medicine. I need to think."

"Sure," Robin agreed—too easily, but he still set the bottle on Cal's bedside table and turned to leave. "Just remember—you don't have very long."

He didn't say another word, he didn't look at Cal once, and he'd only made two self-absorbed comments in nearly five minutes.

It would all have been very concerning if Niko cared about such things anymore.

XXX

It always came back to Cal being half-Auphe.

No matter how they both tried to escape it, no matter how often Niko insisted that Cal was human where it counted, no matter how he fought it and grappled with it and denied it—in the end, it always came back to that.

Only now—not it wasn't such a bad thing, maybe. Maybe this time, the Auphe half of Cal's DNA could be something—hell, something to be grateful for.

Maybe this time the Auphe could save Cal instead of damning him.

Or maybe they couldn't.

Maybe the fact that Cal wasn't entirely human would only make it worse.

But they were already at worse. Or past it. They were, in fact, headed toward the impassable granite wall of "worse," and the train had no hope of stopping.

Save one.

Twenty-two minutes after Robin left, Niko lifted the vial of black liquid from the bedside table and unscrewed the cap.

XXX

_Cal wasn't prepared for anyone to actually notice him. Not this time—the kids seemed to be having too much fun and there wasn't another adult in sight. He was actually okay with going unnoticed—or he would have been, if after an unknown length of time the little girl hadn't stopped dead in her tracks for no apparent reason and turned to face him._

"_Daddy!" she squealed and, grinning, began to run toward him._

_And then the sun went away._

_Well, okay, that might have been a little dramatic—it didn't just drop out of the sky all of a sudden, or disappear behind a freak eclipse. No, it and the sky were simply covered by a bank of iron-gray clouds. With it went the green of the grass, which faded quickly into a dull brown._

_Cal felt it all happening, but he didn't take his eyes off the little girl, because somehow he knew, deep in his bones, that she was going to change, too._

_And she did, when she was about ten feet from him. She leapt as if to fly into his arms, and he watched without surprise as her skin paled to gray, almost white, as her little white baby teeth lengthened to long needles, as her eyes turned to lava and her beautiful dark hair disappeared._

_She landed with enough force to bowl him over, and as he fell back onto the dry grass, her claws digging into his chest and her teeth set into his throat to rip and tear, he could really only think one thing, cling to one strangely satisfying fact._

Now, that's more like it.

XXX

Niko wasn't sure how long the medicine would take to work. Robin _had_ mentioned something about instantly, but Niko wasn't sure if that meant _instantly_, or as soon as it hit Cal's bloodstream.

Evidently it was the latter, because nothing happened when Niko poured the medicine down Cal's throat.

He was just starting to get impatient for the first time in a very long time when Cal began to seize.

**TBC**


	10. Awake

Chapter 9

Later, Niko would find that he had only jumbled-up pieces of memories of the next few minutes. He could remember quite clearly grabbing Cal and trying to hold him still, and when that didn't work, pulling him down into an open space on the floor and backing off and watching him flail and just _waiting_.

When the seizure finally stopped Cal wasn't breathing.

That was when the memories fragmented. He could only dimly recall hitting the ground on his knees next to Cal, feeling for a pulse and finding none. He must have done CPR then, but that part he couldn't see at all in his mind. When he thought hard about it he could sometimes feel—mostly unreasoning terror, and sometimes also the wetness of tears on his face. That last part tracked, at least, because in his next clear moment, when Cal had drawn in a raspy lungful of air and Niko had pulled him up into his lap and just held him close—well, there had definitely been tears then. Not many, but they'd been there—a mark of the first time he'd cried since he was a child.

After that, his memory cleared up, his mind coming back to itself as he moved Cal back to the bed, his hands and knees shaking, to his mild irritation. Cal had been shivering with cold, so Niko had covered him with all the blankets on the bed and then resumed his seat.

And, okay, so Cal had not died from the "medicine," but apparently he had not been cured by it, either, because he didn't wake up that night. He just slept on, and Niko was fairly certain that once the kid finally did wake, he would be quite as annoying as the Energizer Bunny on ten cans of Red Bull laced with cocaine.

Niko couldn't wait for that moment to come—he'd even tried to instigate it once or twice, but no amount of gentle prodding had had any effect. Were it not for the fact that Cal actually seemed to be sleeping normally now, turning over once in a while and even mumbling a few indistinct words as he dreamed, Niko would have been sure that he was still under the effects of the virus.

He still wasn't entirely sure that wasn't the case, and he actually did spend most of the night praying to see Cal's gray eyes again. Pissed, whiny, bratty, scared, sad—whatever emotion he found in those eyes he'd take.

And then he'd fix it.

XXX

Niko hadn't felt hungry since Cal had been taken, but he still forced down a bowl of cereal every morning, and today was no different. He watched Cal sleep until seven, and then he got up and reluctantly left the room. He spent as little time as possible retrieving his breakfast and in less than two minutes was heading back to the bedroom.

He pushed open the door and found Cal staring at him.

Niko stared back at him for a second, then walked silently across the room, set the bowl carefully on the bedside table, and turned to pull Cal up against him in a tight hug.

Cal was much skinnier than he should have been, all skin and bone, the muscle he'd built up over the years worn down by disuse and lack of food. He felt taut in Niko's embrace, tense in a way that he hadn't been since he'd come back from Tumulus. But he didn't try to struggle out of the hug—he wasn't scared of his big brother, and that was enough to keep Niko holding on.

After a minute or two, though, he realized that Cal hadn't said a word, and the sudden spike of worry pushed him to finally let go and sit back to look at his revived brother.

"Cal…" he murmured, one of his hands gripping bony shoulder while the other cupped the back of Cal's neck. "Cal, can you talk to me?"

Cal hesitated, then shook his head. Niko's heart had already begun to sink when the corner of Cal's mouth twitched and he pointed to his throat.

"Oh…_oh!_ Yes, of course, I'll just…I'll be right back."

He was gone less than thirty seconds, and when he returned he had a pitcher of water in one hand and a full glass in the other. He knew he'd been right when Cal's eyes fixed on the glass immediately, and his face broke into a genuine smile as he sat down on the bed and helped Cal swallow that glass of water and then two more.

Finally, though, Cal sat back, leaning heavily against the headboard, and rasped, "That's gonna make me have to piss like a racehorse in a little while."

Niko didn't laugh. Instead, he picked up one of Cal's hands in his and squeezed it silently.

"Nik, what's wrong?" Cal asked, his voice stronger now, and concerned. "You…look terrible."

The nickname very nearly undid him. He found himself blinking back more tears as he squeezed Cal's hand again and asked, "Do you remember anything?"

"Well…yeah, sure I remember. You know, some. It's mostly just a jumbled-up mess, though. I think I like it better that way." His mouth twitched again, his smile rather forced but at least visible. "Now why don't you tell me what's with the look on your face, huh? 'Cause I kind of feel like I'm at my own funeral here."

_You very nearly were._ Niko choked the words back and said, "You shouldn't worry about that right now. You're home now. That's all that matters."

Cal's eyebrows rose. "Come on, Nik, spill it. You've never not told me something before—you always tell me the truth even if I don't want to know." He paused, then said quietly, "It got really bad this time, didn't it?"

"It did," Niko agreed. "Bad enough that I'd rather not talk about it."

"Niko…"

"Look, I will, all right? I'll tell you. Later. But you just woke up, and you're hurt. Let me take care of you before you try to fix me, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Cal said, but less firmly. "You can't not talk about this with me—you've been through just as much as I have."

"And I'm not making you talk about what happened to you, am I?" Niko asked imperturbably. _Yet._ "Cal, I _promise_ we will talk. But I need to concentrate on you now. I need to. Can you understand that?"

As he'd expected, that was enough. Cal slumped back against the headboard and said, "Okay. Fine. But if you won't talk, I'm going back to sleep. And you—you're sleeping, too. You can do it in here or in your room, but you look half-dead and you definitely need a nap." As he spoke, Cal shifted to make room on the bed, groaning slightly at the pull on his stitches. "Nice clean-up job, by the way," he added, almost cheerfully, and Niko came to join him on the bed. "Let me guess, though—no pills yet, for some weird—but good—Niko-esque reason?"

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, it doesn't hurt that bad. Like I said, bang-up job. Now stop talking and go to sleep."

"Cal, you've spoken twice as much as I have since you woke up."

"Not the point. Sleep."

Niko didn't reply, and the two of them fell silent.

Until Cal sighed and murmured, "Nik?"

"Hmm?" Niko replied with his eyes closed, feeling another little thrill at the sound of Cal's old nickname for him.

"I was right about the water."

XXX

Cal slept another six hours, and Niko slept almost as long, though not as deeply. He wished he _could_ sleep deeply, but the fact was that they still had enemies out there, and even though he was fairly certain that Gordon was gone—for now—that didn't mean he was ready to take any chances with Cal's safety.

So he slept lightly, ready to jump to full wakefulness at the slightest sound, and consequently when Cal rolled over in his sleep and was shocked awake by the pain in his stitches, Niko was ready.

"Ow…" Cal groaned as Niko adjusted him so that he was lying on his back and most of the weight was off his wounds. "Okay, whatever I was on, I think it wore off…" He yelped when Niko's hand brushed over his wrist.

"Sorry," Niko muttered absently, calculating hours in his head as he spoke. "All right, I think it should be safe enough to give you something. Tylenol or something stronger?"

"Tylenol," Cal said instantly. "I can't make you talk if I'm in a drug haze."

Niko couldn't bring himself to glare, and when he came back from the bathroom he had two Tylenol tablets in hand. Cal studied them before taking them, making Niko smile involuntarily. "Don't you trust me, little brother?"

"Absolutely. Just not when it comes to me and pain." Cal downed the pills and a gulp of water with hands that shook slightly but were at least up to the task now.

"Now just sit there while it takes effect and I'll make you breakfast. What do you want?"

Cal glared at him. "Oh, no you don't. You said we'd talk."

"Yes, but I did not say when. And you weigh less than one of my swords right now. I plan to do something about this. What do you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry," Cal said sulkily.

"That would be because it's been so long since you've eaten. Tell me what you want or everything will be soy."

Cal glared some more, but Niko simply stared impassively back, and after a few moments Cal sighed. "I hate you. Fine, can I at least have pancakes?"

"Whatever you want, little brother."

XXX

When Niko came back, not only did he have the promised pancakes, but he had a stack of _chocolate chip_ pancakes, smothered in syrup and peanut butter. Cal stared dubiously at them for a moment—and then his stomach finally woke up, and he was shoveling mouthfuls in before he even realized he'd picked up his fork. "Mm…Nik, these are freaking _amazing._ I can't believe you waste such mad skills on health food."

"Go slowly," was Niko's only reply as he sat back to watch Cal eat.

"As if," Cal snorted, but all the same his hand slowed. "I can't believe you made me chocolate chip pancakes—thought you didn't believe in chocolate."

"I did say you could have whatever you wanted," Niko pointed out.

"Damn. Should've gone for the Viper," Cal said with a peanut-buttery grin.

It wasn't the best joke Cal had ever made—not even close—but it was still a joke. Cal was sitting up in bed and shoveling in pancakes and grinning and _joking_. And okay, maybe he was only doing this because the pills were dulling the pain in his wounds, but they weren't doing anything for his _mind._

If Cal could sit there and joke after all he'd been through, then…maybe he was really okay. Or would be in time.

"Hey, you all right?" Cal asked again, breaking into his thoughts.

"Hm? Oh…yes, fine. I was just thinking."

Cal studied him a little longer, then abruptly put down his fork and said, "All right, this has gone on long enough. It's getting ridiculous, Niko. You are _not_ fine, you_ have_ to talk about whatever's going on in your freaky gigundus brain, and I'm not eating another bite until you start spilling your guts."

"Cal…"

"No. I'm just as stubborn as you, and I'm serious about this. Talk."

Niko had won arguments with Cal before, and he knew he could have won this one, but—well, Cal wasn't wrong now like he'd been those other times.

Besides, he wasn't sure he was ready to try denying his brother anything just yet.

So, reluctantly, he reached out to place the fork back in Cal's hand, and then he began to tell his brother a bedtime story.

Mother Goose, it was not.

**TBC**

* * *

_Author's Note: Okay, so to be honest, I kind of have mixed feelings about this chapter, you guys. I loved writing it, don't get me wrong, but there's a possibility that in my eagerness to finally get our brothers back together again, I may have gone overboard a bit in fluff. I hope I didn't, or if I did I hope you enjoy it enough that you guys don't mind. And that you guys also don't mind that medical accuracy and reality sort of took a backseat to said fluff…so yeah, review! Let me know!_


	11. Words

_Author's Note: I am so sorry, y'all! You have no idea how hard this chapter was to write! It was like pulling teeth without pliers—using my feet. Plus the end of the semester was insane and then I worked all last week, and I know that's a lot of excuses, but they're all true! But I did get stuck in the fitting room a couple of nights ago, and boredom did what nothing else could. So, without further ado, here is a new chapter! Erm…if anyone's still reading this. _

* * *

Chapter 10

"…Huh," Cal said succinctly later, when Niko had finally finished the whole story. He hadn't left anything out, knowing it wouldn't do any good if he did, and consequently he'd talked for almost an hour. Cal hadn't spoken at all, seemingly determined to make Niko get everything out without interruption.

And then finally, Niko had stopped talking, and Cal had said "huh," and that was all.

"That's really all you have to say," Niko said incredulously. "I tell you that you've been buried alive, and _that_ is your response. It isn't even a _word."_

"Well, what do you want me to say? It's not like it's gonna give me nightmares---I can't even remember that part. And even when he was torturing me—I've had worse, Nik. My own father has done worse to me."

Niko had been hanging onto his hand the whole time, and now he squeezed and said gently, "Yes, but you don't remember that, either."

"I know, and I can't explain it, but…the idea of the Auphe and Tumulus just seems so much worse than the idea of this guy. I'm not saying I'm okay with it, especially not after what it put you through, but I don't see it really keeping me up at night."

Niko stared at him. This was…not what he'd been expecting. He'd been expecting everything from anger at Gordon to disbelief at being back home, but not this. Not this quiet acceptance of all that had happened to him.

"I don't know," Cal said, and Niko set aside his confusion to listen. "I guess I'm just majorly damaged or something, but actually, we already knew that."

"We both are," Niko said fervently. "But Cal, even if you think you're all right, you should still talk about the parts you do remember."

Cal smiled slightly. "You do know how ironic it is for you to tell me that, considering that it was like pulling teeth with frayed string to get you to do the same thing." Niko simply watched him, and Cal finally sighed and said, "Okay, okay, I'll tell you." He paused for a moment, his gaze faraway, and then he said slowly, "I remember waking up there the first time. I was drugged so it was all hazy, but I knew I was on the floor and that it hurt, so that was how I knew I wasn't at home. I remember Gordon coming down and talking some shit about me being a monster and you being one, too, for letting me live. I remember being my smart-ass self every time I opened my mouth, which really didn't make him happy."

He chuckled, but Niko was still stuck on "letting me live." A fury that he had hardly allowed himself to feel since Cal had been taken was coursing through him. _That bastard thinks I should have killed him. He calls _my brother_ a monster when he sees no problem with a man murdering his own family._ The rage built until it made his insides shake, until he was clenching his fists against the tide and using every ounce of strength that he possessed to keep from turning over all the furniture and going out to kill himself a hunter.

"And I remember knowing you'd find me."

Niko looked over sharply to find Cal watching him with a small smile, an oddly compassionate look in his gray eyes.

"You found me, Nik," he repeated. "You dug me out of that grave. You saved me. Just…hold onto that, okay?"

Niko didn't say anything for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and asked briskly, "Do you remember anything else?"

Cal grinned as if faced with exactly what he'd expected, but didn't comment. "Yeah, I do—I remember having some seriously cracked-out dreams. As in, white picket fences, you married with two point five kids, and I do mean that literally, and married to George…creepy Stepford kind of stuff, pretty much."

He spoke airily, casually enough that he was almost convincing, and Niko smiled gently at him and let it pass. "That will have been the virus, then."

"Yeah, guess so. Anyway—that's it. Next thing I know I'm waking up here." He shrugged, then winced. "Ow. Okay, so the drugs are wearing off now. Damn drug resistance…no wonder Gordon had to use so much crap to keep me under." He continued to mutter in irritation as he edged his way gingerly into a horizontal position. Niko helped him wriggle under the covers and then sat down beside him again.

"You know what's worrying me the most right now, though," Call said once he was lying down again, "is that this guy escaped. How did he get away from you _and_ those Winchester guys?"

"We had other things on our minds," Niko said simply. "There was no way I was leaving you to go after him, and Sam and Dean were busy helping me."

"Well, we need to catch up to him," Cal said, and some of the anger Niko had been expecting earlier finally bled through into his voice. "He almost killed me and he tried to hurt you. I want him, Nik."

Niko put a hand on his shoulder. We'll get him, little brother," he promised, his voice just as steely as Cal's. He remained in that position until Cal dozed off again, then repeated, quietly, "We'll get him."

XXX

"Yes, Robin, I know. I'm sorry, I—yes, I realize that. I've already apologized…I know, Robin, and thank you…Yes, I promise…all right, until tomorrow, then."

Cal cracked one eye open as Niko hung up the phone. "What was that about?" he murmured without moving.

"Robin is unhappy with me for failing to inform him that his medicine worked and that you are all right."

"And it took him this long to call and buy you about it?"

"Well," Niko replied, endeavoring to keep his voice calm, "it appears that he thought it hadn't worked, and was exhibiting unusual tact in refraining from calling me before this morning."

"Oh. So why isn't he coming over now to cry over my not-deathbed?"

"It seems he would rather go and drown his misery at my disrespect in the nearest bar. In other words, he has now used up his remaining store of tact and will be twice as irritating from here on out while he rebuilds said store."

He smiled, one of his rare true smiles, and Cal grinned back. "You're in a good mood."

"Yes, I suppose I am. You've slept for nine hours. Are you quite finished now?"

Cal shrugged. "Probably, but you know me. Lazy to the core. And starving, too. Time for dinner yet?"

"It's nice to see that you can remain a spoiled teenager no matter what the circumstances. I'm afraid, though, that there is a tantrum in your future—those pancakes this morning were the only unhealthy things left in the house. You'll have to make do with the dreaded vegetables. We have cheese, though." He smiled again.

"You _are_ in a good mood," Cal said incredulously.

"I had a good day," Niko said simply. In truth, all he had done was watch Cal sleep and get some rest himself, but somehow even those simple things had raised his spirits. Then he'd talked to Robin, who had behaved exactly like himself, nothing more or less, and for some reason that had made him feel even lighter.

Cal looked rather pleased until Niko's words sank in. Then his grin faded abruptly and he said pathetically, "Vegetables?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We have the makings of a fine salad, a thimbleful of Pepsi in the bottom of the bottle, and three slices of cheese."

"Well, can't you go to the store?"

"I can. However, I'm not going to."

"But…"

"Shush, Cal," Niko advised, the suppressed laughter in his voice softening the words. "I've let you have enough grease already. You're getting salad. I'll make it a really good one, okay?"

Cal slumped back against the headboard and sighed. "Fine…"

XXX

"What do you think is going on over there?"

Dean looked up and away from the TV to give his brother A Look. His voice was deceptively casual as he asked, "Over where?"

"You know very well, Dean," Sam said with a roll of his eyes. He paused, then asked hesitantly, "Do you think Niko's all right?"

"'Course he's not," Dean said instantly—and callously, he realized a second later. He sighed and said, almost to himself, "There's no way he could be."

Sam didn't reply to that, but after a few moments he said, "I think we should call him. I just…I don't' feel like we should just bail. Not this time."

Dean looked at him for a moment, then said, "They really got to you, didn't they?"

"And they didn't to you?" Sam retorted instantly.

"Well, yeah, but—well, what could we even do for the guy? His brother just died, and us getting involved—it won't help."

"We're already involved. I think we were as soon as we met Niko. I mean, face it, man—they could be us."

Dean didn't say anything for so long that Sam shrugged and went back to his book, not looking up until something bounced off his head. His gaze followed the progress of the wad of paper to the ground; then he lifted his eyes just in time to catch the cell phone flying at him.

"Don't piss him off," was all Dean said before he turned back to the screen once again.

XXX

"I got a call while I was making your food."

Something in Niko's voice made Cal stop picking (without much enthusiasm) at the salad Niko had presented him with a couple of minutes before. "Who from?" he asked, his mind racing everywhere from the police to government scientists. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, it's only…it was from Sam and Dean Winchester," Niko explained.

"Those guys who helped you find me?" Cal asked, surprised.

"Yes. I never expected to hear from them again. It took me somewhat by surprise."

"Well, sure. I mean, when do we expect to see anyone we meet again? Except Robin and Promise, but they're insane. So what did they want?"

"I'm not quite sure," Niko admitted. "They only asked if I was all right. They seemed…well, concerned is the only way I can think to describe it." He paused for a moment, considering it, then went on. "They seemed very surprised when I said I was perfectly fine—disturbed, even—until I told them that you'd pulled through after all."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I'm a miracle."

"They asked if they could meet you."

Cal froze for a moment, then took a slow bite of salad. "They know what I am?" he asked. "You told them?"

"I thought it might help us find you if they had that information," Niko said unapologetically.

"I know. Believe me, I get it. But…you said they hunted people like me, and after Gordon…I know they're probably not coming to kill me or anything but…"

"But they may be coming to gawk, or to investigate, or to tell you how much you disgust them, as almost everyone with the eyes to see into our world has done," Niko finished quietly. At Cal's nod, he sighed. "Cal, I can't make you comfortable, with this, I know that. I can't say I am particularly comfortable, either, having added hunters to our not-inconsiderable enemy list. But they wish it, and they seem to hold no malice toward us. And…I owe them more than I can ever repay."

"Make that 'we,'" Cal corrected, then heaved a sigh and pushed the salad away. "Fine, I'll meet them. Let them see the prized specimen for themselves. At least it'll only be once, right?"

"I wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you, little brother," Niko said lightly. "As I recall, we still haven't been able to shake the object of our last 'one-time' meeting."

At the thought of Robin, and that these two might prove just as irritatingly, persistently _present_, Cal groaned and closed his eyes.

But he couldn't help but smile at Niko's quiet chuckle.

XXX

Dean Winchester looked almost exactly as he'd expected. From what little Niko had said, the older Winchester had been somewhat of a punk, and proud of it—and he certainly looked that way. But not like a teenager trying and failing to act tough in front of the school bully. No, Dean very much fit his role as the kick-ass big brother, and Cal had no trouble imagining him taking on the whole playground by himself for any insult to himself or his family, real or imagined.

Sam, though—well, Sam came as something of a shock. Cal had expected something more along the lines of Georgina King—someone with the air of one who had seen so many paths, bad and good, that both pain and joy were simply a part of him. Someone who seemed half in the real world, while the other half drifted in some nether realm, only touching with reality when the time came to impart some small wisdom to the masses. Someone—hell, someone somehow _above_ it all.

But Sam Winchester was very much in the real world—wholly and completely, unlike George. If he really did see into the future, then he definitely didn't do it often, and what he saw there did not bring true wisdom, or any measure of peace at all. Instead it made Sam look careworn, tired, and somehow much older than he really was.

Here was someone Cal could relate to, and it helped that there was no disgust, no malice, in his gaze as he looked at Cal. There was only sympathy. Dean didn't look angry or malicious either, but he did look curios, and that wasn't exactly comfortable, either.

"So," Cal said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen after Niko had shown the Winchesters in. "I hear you two are pretty much responsible for my return to this crappy little roller coaster we call life. And hunters, too. I kind of expected you to be packing, at least."

Sam opened his mouth to reply and Niko said, "At least try and be polite, Cal." But Dean just grinned—and then whipped out a gun so fast that Cal had no idea where it even came from.

Niko didn't growl, precisely, but the sound he made was pretty close to that. Cal heard a quiet hiss as he drew one of his throwing blades, and didn't have to look to know that he was palming it, ready for a toss.

"Down, Cujo," Dean said, still grinning, and Cal was hard-put to stop his mouth dropping open. He'd never seen _anyone_ grin when Niko had a blade in his hand. They were always either awed or scared—but they never just stood there and _smiled_ like that.

"I'm not hurting anyone," Dean went on, oblivious for the response he was provoking. "Just showing the kid here that we can meet one or two expectations."

Cal choked back the automatic "I'm _not_ a kid" that had risen to his lips, knowing that such petulant words wouldn't help his cause at all.

"Put it away," Niko said calmly. "And don't draw a weapon in my brother's presence again."

Sam followed up Niko's words with an elbow to Dean's ribs, and suddenly Dean looked a little ashamed of himself. "Right, sorry. So…uh…"

"This is awkward," Cal said abruptly, after a few more moments of uncomfortable silence.

"No reason it shouldn't be," Dean pointed out. "I mean, Gordon—he—he was….uh…."

"he was one of us," Sam filled in. "A hunter. And…I mean…well, I wish I could say there was no one else out there like him, but—truth is, I don't know whether there is or not. Actually, there probably are. Hunting's not exactly something that welcomes shades of gray…"

Cal raised an eyebrow at Niko and said wryly, "Wow. If Robin were a nervous rambler…"

"Look, I'm just trying to say you shouldn't judge us all by Gordon. He's—he's a bastard, plain and simple. We're sorry for what he did to you. You guys seem like good guys an all, and…well, yeah." Sam looked a little red by the time he finished, and more than a little awkward, but Cal found himself warming to him.

"You're not so bad yourselves," he mocked with a small grin. "Seriously, though—thank you," he went on, in a voice that took even him by surprise. He'd never heard himself sound so…genuine…before. At least, not with anyone who wasn't Niko.

Niko broke the moment by reaching over, ruffling his hair, and saying, "See? He's a good boy, really."

"Shut up."

"Now, now, you had such good manners there for a moment. Don't shatter my hopes for you so quickly."

"I'll be shattering something else in a minute if you don't be quiet," Cal muttered.

"Oh, my, aren't we suddenly a rough, tough little pit bull, hmm? Don't bite our fingers, now, or I won't let you go for a walk."

Cal perked up instantly at that. "A walk? You mean you're letting me up?"

"Well, not a _walk_, per se. More like a few very careful steps into the living room."

"I'll take it!" Cal said delightedly, already pushing back the covers.

"I don't believe I've ever seen you so excited to relinquish your bed," Niko said in some bemusement as he helped Cal to his feet and braced him with an arm around his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, I've always had the option of leaving it, haven't I?" Cal retorted. "_Choosing_ not to get up is half the fun, you know."

"No, I don't know," Niko countered. "In fact, I think you sound entirely insane. Hey," he added, his hand tightening on Cal's arm. "Go slow."

"Yeah, yeah, Grandma…what're you looking at?" he snapped when he saw Sam chuckling as he watched them.

Sam's smile disappeared immediately. "Oh…uh, nothing."

"Uh-huh. I saw the look. The 'Sam Winchester, this is your life' look."

"No idea what you're talking about," Sam said, his mouth twitching into a grin.

By this time they'd reached the couch, and while Dean was trying to come up with a retort that wouldn't just end up making him look stupid, Niko lowered Cal onto the couch and settled him there with all the pillows shoved behind his back. Then he stood up, turned, and said, "Would either of you like a drink? I think we might have some beer in the fridge."

"Hey! You said we didn't have anything!" Cal said, glaring.

"Well, I lied. You can't have any anyway. Sam, Dean?"

"Yeah, we'll take two. Thanks," Dean said, grinning.

"I'll be right back, then. Behave, Cal."

And then he was gone and Cal was—deliberately, he realized now—left alone with two armed men who killed people like him as a job. And yes, if either of them so much as reached into their pockets, Niko would be there to stick a knife in them, and sure, this was probably the best way to get him over his newfound worry about anyone with a gun and a knowledge of the paranormal.

Those two facts did not make the situation any more comfortable.

_Damn Pollyanna and his friggin' tough love policy…_

Sam, too, looked a little uneasy, and even Dean, who Cal felt to be one very complacent individual, seemed less than happy. After all, what was there to say between three—four—people in the wake of the events the past few days had brought?

"I have a really good friend who's a psychic, you know."

Oh. That.

"You…huh?" Sam asked intelligently.

Cal felt himself flushing as they stared at him. "Uh…Nik mentioned that that's how you guys found me—that you had some sort of…vision."

"Yeah," Sam said, with a slightly twisted smile. "Some kind of vision."

"So that'd make you psychic. Well, I have a friend who's the same way. Her name's Georgina. I kind of expected you to be more like her, but you've turned out to be…a surprise." He realized then how much he was rambling, but he couldn't seem to stop—probably a side effect of all the pain pill she was on. Or maybe not. He couldn't be sure. "I mean, she's…happy," he went on. "No matter what she sees, somehow she always finds a way to make peace with it. She just walks around making the rest of the world feel good and never even seems too worried about the future. It doesn't seem to hurt her like it seems to hurt you."

He hadn't noticed that as he spoke, Sam's shoulders had been hunching further and further forward and Dena's jaw had been clenching more and more. But he realized he must have pissed them off when Dean snapped, "Well, good for her, then. Maybe she can help Sam deal with it. Maybe she can teach him to just ignore the goddamn pain that folds him every single time. Maybe she can teach him to accept the fact that sometimes he gets visions so he can prevent them and sometimes he gets them so he can _not_ prevent them and just watch them twice instead. Maybe she can make him _happy_ with the idea of spending the rest of his life watching a close-up of people _dying_. I'm glad she can make peace with it, 'cause I sure as hell can't."

Cal wasn't the only one gaping at Dean by the time he finished his tirade. Sam's eyes were wide as saucers, and even Niko, who was standing at the kitchen door, looked slightly taken aback at the sudden explosion.

"Dean…" Sam said, voice tempered by shock. "What're you so mad about?"

Dean glared at him, then slumped back in the chair and said, suddenly sounding tired, "Nothing. Never mind. How 'bout that beer, man?"

And that was the last thing he said for the rest of the night.

**TBC**

* * *

_Author's Note (2): I know it was an abrupt ending. Sorry about that, but I wanted to get this chapter up before another month passed, so the rest of the conversation shall be in the next chapter, which WILL NOT take as long to come up, I swear…_


	12. Understanding

Chapter 11

The night Sam and Dean spent at Cal and Niko's apartment was easily the strangest they'd ever had. They'd never really met anyone like the Leandros brothers before, and just being around them was…odd, and slightly unsettling.

And Dean's little outburst really hadn't helped.

They didn't leave, though. For reasons known only to them, they simply sat in their chairs, drinking their way slowly through three beers each, while Cal reclined like a king on the couch with his legs thrown casually over Niko's lap.

And talked.

Oh, he didn't delve too deeply into any topic. He certainly didn't share his entire life story, only sketching the bare bones of it as if to gauge how much Niko had said. But he did touch on other things: Niko's father and their mother, and how useless they'd been as parents; a few things about the Auphe (simple things like his and Niko's nickname for them and some of what they looked like); the merits of guns versus swords (he seemed rather smug about Dean's firm declaration that guns were the most useful weapon known to mankind, smirking until Niko was forced to swat him—quite gently—on the back of the head); and even touching for a moment on the way Niko had taken on the job of raising him almost since he was an infant.

That was the point when Niko had known—by the looks they'd exchanged—that if Cal hadn't necessarily made a friend for life in Sam Winchester, then he'd at least found someone who could at least understand him.

And that was the point when Dean cleared his throat and changed the subject to Cal and Niko's method of hiding who they really were.

He seemed rather surprised when Niko replied that they didn't. Not really, and not often.

"We obtained a fake I.D. to get Cal his jobs at various low-class bars, and my teaching certificate is hardly legitimate, but mostly we pay for groceries and the rent with cash and try to stay off the radar." Niko paused, then pointed out, "Of course, we do have a bit of income, if it isn't exactly steady. I'd imagine you must make your money with hustling and credit card fraud, yes?"

"Yeah, so?" Dean said defensively.

"So nothing. I don't see any other option, if you are to keep your secret. It must be difficult, though."

Dean shrugged. "No worse than not being able to go to the hospital when you get yourself busted up, I guess."

Niko had allowed that to pass without comment, but he'd felt his understanding of Dean Winchester grow slightly, because he could tell that Dean, at least, had had similar problems with hospitals before.

Maybe they could all understand each other after all.

XXX

It was just getting to be dawn when Sam told Cal that he wanted to meet George.

It was hard to say who was more surprised. Sam had been quiet for a couple of hours before, only speaking a few times, and then not saying very much.

Until he'd said to Cal, "Would you introduce me to your friend George?"

"Uh…" Cal said intelligently. "I guess…sure, but…"

"Why?" Dean asked, unnecessarily loud. Niko didn't know why he sounded annoyed or why Sam looked so guilty—not until Dean went on. "You want to ask her about mom, don't you? And Jessica and the YED."

Niko couldn't make heads or tails out of these questions, and plainly neither could Cal, but neither Sam nor Dean seemed wont to explain. Sam just looked at Dean and said quietly, "I need to know, man."

"No, you don't. You already _do_ know. I've been telling you for almost a year now what I think, and she's just going to tell you the exact same thing."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do. I know it 'cause it's the _truth_, dude."

Sam sighed. "Look, Dean, I don't want to fight about this, okay? Please?"

For some unfathomable reason, Dean only looked angrier at this, but after a few minutes he sighed in defeat and said, "Fine. Whatever. You want to go alone, too, don't you?"

"Well…I wanted to bring Cal to, y'know, introduce me, but…yeah."

"Whatever."

XXX

Cal seemed completely unsurprised when Niko refused to let them go alone, and instead insisted on he and Dean riding with them, and simply staying in the car. He argued, of course, but it was really more a token attempt than anything, and it wasn't long before the four of them were in the Impala. Cal rode shotgun at Niko and Sam's insistence, and Niko got the sense that Dean would have been annoyed except for the fact that Cal had spent what seemed to be the "appropriate" amount of time drooling over the vintage car before getting into it. He still didn't seem entirely happy with the idea, but Niko thought he could understand that. It would be, he thought, rather like someone besides Cal cleaning his swords.

Well, he didn't really let Cal do that, either, but the idea was at least less heinous than the idea of anyone else doing it.

They got to the ice-cream parlor at about six o'clock, and Cal got gingerly out of the car while Niko watched him carefully for pain.

"This is it?" Dean asked, sounding confused. "There's no one _here."_

"Yeah, she might not be here for another few minutes. We'll go in and sit down—it shouldn't be long. I'll be back out once I've introduced Sam to her. You guys okay tow ati?"

"Not really," Dean said.

"Dean—"

"Relax, Sammy, I'm kidding. Just go."

"Bring me back a scoop of vanilla. Sugar-free, if you please," Niko added. "And you, Dean?"

"Uh…nothing for me, thanks."

"Hey, you have to get something. It's the rules," Cal said.

So a dubious Dean said fine, he'd take a scoop of Rocky Road on a sugar cone and Sam and Cal left them to their own devices.

"Georgina doesn't charge for her services reading people's futures," Niko explained when they were alone. "She does, however, request that those who come to her buy something while they're here. It seems to be all keeping the old man who runs the place in business."

"Great," Dean muttered. "So there's a patron saint of New Yorkers and my brother's gone int o meet her."

"Perhaps," Niko agreed with a small smile.

"I hate New York," Dean said, so quietly that Niko felt sure he wasn't supposed to here the remark. Out of politeness, he pretended he hadn't and silence fell.

Again.

And even Niko, Zen master, was getting a little tired of sitting in silence, especially with Dean Winchester.

XXX

"You brother is really pissed at you for this, you know. Even I can tell that."

Sam shrugged as he sat down in the booth across from Cal with his sundae. "He's just looking out for me. He'll get over it."

Cal grinned. "He's a good mom, huh?"

"I dare you to say that exact thing to him when we get back to the car."

Cal chuckled. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like the type to take that kind of thing." He took a bite of his banana split and asked bluntly, "So why _is_ he so pissed?"

Sam shrugged. "It actually comes back to an argument we've been having off and on for a couple months now, but…I don't really want to talk about it, okay?"

Cal shrugged. "Fair enough, I guess."

Sam looked at him for a second, then shrugged. "Look, let's just say I have some things I really need to find out. About my life and where it's going. It's not the kind of thing I can afford to be in the dark about, okay?"

"I get that. And don't worry, George won't say a word. She's got kind of a seer-client confidentiality thing going on. She'll take whatever you tell her to the grave—I couldn't beat it out of her if I wanted to. She's strong, that one."

The admiration in his voice was what prompted Sam to ask. "So what's she like, anyway? I mean, you told me a little, but…"

"But not enough if she's going to be digging into your future and whatever. Yeah." Cal seemed to think for a second. "Well, she's…not quite like anyone you've ever met. She's kind of like Yoda meets Mr. Miyagi meets a Native American shaman , with a little bit of princess thrown in for good measure."

"That's…a lot of meeting."

"Yeah, but it's the only explanation I can think of for how one person can know everything, accept it with the peace of a Zen master, tell you about it with the wisdom of a sage, and the entire time make you feel like you're privileged just because you're talking to her, whether she's giving you good news or not."

"Huh. She sounds…amazing. And did you…did you mean it when you said she's cool with being psychic?"

Cal shrugged. "Well, yeah. I mean, she seems to deal okay with it. But then again, she more or less lives in the future, I think—kind of half in, half out. Maybe she's only okay with it because she doesn't really have any other choice."

"Well, I'm certainly not okay with it, and I don't have a choice, either," Sam said, trying not to sound bitter.

Evidently he hadn't succeeded too well, because Cal raised an eyebrow at him and then took another bite of his banana split. After a few moments, though, he seemed to be unable to resist asking anymore. "What's it like, anyway?"

"What's what like? The visions?"

"Uh…yeah, if that's what you call them."

Sam shrugged. "I dunno. Never really thought about it. I guess it's kind of like…pressure? Y'know, it starts in the back of my head, kinda, and then just…builds, until it _hurts._ Worse than I ever thought anything could, and I've broken just about every bone in my body. And just when I think I'm going to die from it, I see the vision, like I'm watching TV in my head. It usually goes really fast—so I have to work really hard to hold onto the details—and the pain goes away a couple of minutes after it finishes, but it takes a while for my breath to come back. Mostly it's just…exhausting. And…they're always visions of people dying. _Always_. So that kind of sucks, especially when Dean and I can't prevent them. And it freaks Dean the hell out, which I hate. He pretends it doesn't, but…well, anyway, basically the whole thing is crap. I honestly don't know how your friend deals with it."

"Yeah…" Cal said slowly. "But Sam…I don't think it's the same way for her. I don't think she even _sees _visions. Or at least, she never seems to get flashes like you do. Whenever she reads for Niko, it's always like she's just kind of…stepping into the future. She definitely doesn't act like it hurts her."

"Huh," Sam said, his mouth twisting cynically. "Of course. I'm a freak among freaks. Figures…"

XXX

"He shouldn't be doing this."

At the sound of Dean's voice, Niko glanced at him but said nothing.

He doesn't' need to be in there. She's only going to tell him the same thing I've _been_ telling him."

"What have you been telling him?"

Dean shrugged. "Just…you know what? Never mind. Let's just…sit here awkwardly, okay?"

Niko hesitated, then asked, "Is it about what happened to your mother?"

For a moment, he thought Dean was going to either ignore him or slug him. But then the older man said simply, "Yeah. And to his girlfriend. They were both murdered, you know. In the exact same way. A demon attacked them—pinned both of them on the ceiling and set them on fire." He paused, then said, with the air of letting loose a confession, "Both murders happened in Sam's room, over his bed. And now he thinks there's a connection, and that he's it."

It wasn't an unreasonable assumption—in fact, it sounded like it was probably true—but one that Niko knew he wouldn't allow Cal to make if his situation and Dean's were reversed. So instead of pointing it out, he said, "He blames himself, then?"

"'Course he does. He shouldn't, but he does. Doesn't help that he had visions of Jessica dying weeks before it happened. They were his first, so he didn't do anything about them—thought they were just dreams."

Now, that _was_ a reasonable assumption, and Niko pointed it out this time without hesitation.

"You think I haven't told him that?" Dean snapped. "He still blames himself for it, and it's killing him. It has been for over a year now, and I hate watching him go through that."

"I know. Believe me, I understand perfectly. Don't you think Cal is the same way? He refuses to believe that I don't mind the way we live. He blames himself for the fact that I can't go to college, get a degree, have a normal life. He doesn't understand that I'd rather live _this_ life, and have him, then live a perfect life without him—that I'd pay _anything_ for it. I hate it too, Dean. But it's their way of trying to make sense out of a senseless situation, and it would only hurt them more for us to be angry with them about it."

"I'm not mad at him," Dean said, looking very much as if regretted getting into this conversation in the first place. "I just…God, I wish we hadn't come here."

Something in his tone said very clearly that he didn't mean New York, and in that instant something clicked in his mind.

"You have a secret, don't you?" he asked before he could stop himself—a rare occurrence indeed. "About your brother."

Again, Dean was quiet long enough that Niko began to doubt he'd get an answer. But then Dean sighed explosively and said—wearily, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and simply couldn't bear the load alone anymore—"Yes." He looked over at Niko as if in assessment, then went on, though he spoke as if every word hurt. "Before my dad died—not too long ago—he…he told me something. About Sam.. Some of it was the usual—you know, protect him, take care of him, more of the same thing I heard my whole life. But then he said something else. He told me I had to…save Sam. He didn't say what it meant—I don't have a friggin' clue what I'm even supposed to save Sam _from—_but he did tell me that if I couldn't save him I'd have to…to kill him." He looked out the window then, to where Sam and Cal were sitting at a booth, eating ice cream and apparently talking. "I never told him."

After a moment Niko said noncommittally, "Do you plan to?"

Dean leaned his head on the steering wheel and replied in a muffled voice, "I don't know."

Niko nodded silently, and after a moment Dean lifted his head and said, "Well?"

"Well, what?" Niko asked politely.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"What should I say?"

"I dunno, just…something. I thought you'd tell me what I should do, at least."

"Dean, I only met you two days ago. I'm certainly not qualified to give advice, especially on a matter such as this, when there _is_ no solution. I can only tell you to do exactly what you would do anyway: protect Sam. Stay with him. You've been doing that for your entire life for a reason, Dean, and watching you with Sam, I know that you'll continue to do it, no matter what else happens. And really, isn't that all you need to know?"

He spoke with a firmness that must have surprised Dean, because the hunter said, "Dude, have you ever had a single doubt about anything in your whole life?"

"I have," Niko said calmly. "Many times. Never about Cal or what I will do in regards to him."

Dean huffed out something that might have been a laugh or a grunt. "Dude, I don't know how you do it."

"Yes, you do," Niko said simply.

Dean glanced at him in some surprise and murmured, "Yeah. Maybe I do."

XXX

Cal and Sam came out ten minutes later, and as far as Niko could tell George's table was still empty.

"Problems?" he asked, recalling all too well the last time George had failed to show up at the shop.

Cal shrugged. "I just called her house. Her mom says she's sick. Mono or something. I'm sorry, Sam. Maybe next time you're in town?"

But he gave Niko a darkly significant look as he spoke, and it was clear that Mrs. King had said nothing of the kind.

Niko—remembering a fogged-over glass window with a crude picture of a car, George sobbing with her head in her arms, and the secret Dean had just imparted to him—said nothing at all.

XXX

**Epilogue**

"_Hey, Niko? It's Dean. Dean Winchester. I just wanted to tell you that we found Gordon…"_

**END**

* * *

_Author's Note: Surprisingly, that, my friends, is the end. I know, I wasn't expecting it either! But I wrote this in the fitting room again (in between writing "_Twilight_ is not literature" in size thingies on the fitting room desk), and I was dashing off the last few lines as the store started closing, when I looked back at them and thought, "Hey, now, that makes a fine ending!" And then my manager came over and told me to get out of the fitting room, so I just came home and decided to go ahead and post it the way it was._

_Hope you enjoyed the story! My next one is already in the world—another crossover, y'all—so I hope you'll read that one, too!_

_So anyways—if you guys felt like pressing the little button and reviewing, that'd be great! _

_Also, maybe someone can answer this question: if it is one sentence tacked onto the end of a chapter, does it even COUNT as an epilogue?_


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